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WA-WA-WANDA 


A     LEGEND     OF     OLD     ORANGE. 


"  All  your  danger  is  in  discord, 
All  your  strength  is  in  your  union." 

LOSOFELLOW. 


N  E  A7    YORK: 
Ktjdd  &  Carleton,  130  Grand  Street. 

MDCCOLX. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1860, 

By   the    author, 

In  the  Clerk's  OflSce  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of 
New- York. 


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©  B  e  A  T  B  @ 


TO 

THE  HONORABLE  EDWARD  EVERETT, 

THE   MAK   OF   PEACE, 

AND   THE   PRUDENT, 
THE   BONOKABLE  KAN,  AND  THE  COUNSELLOB 
AND   THE  ELOQUENT 
O  K  A  T  O  R  , 

THIS  VOLUME  IS  MOST   EESPECTPULLT  INSCRIBED  BT  THB 

AUTHOR. 


i 


430787 


Contents. 


, 0' 

PAGE. 

To  the  Reader, 6 

Introduction, 9 

Prologue, 13 

Root  of  the  Tree, 16 

Natural  Branches, 25 

Combat, 27 

Cabin-building, 33 

Stump  in  the  Way, 42 

Slountain  Maiden , 45 

Grafting,  Or,  Wa-Wa-Wanda's  "Wedding, 48 

BuddingOut, 59 

Early  Training, 62 

Christening ''^ 

Wa-Wa  Wandas  Wife's  Ways, 95 

Wa-Wa  Wanda  s  Last  Words, 105 

Wa-Wa  Wanda's  Death, Ill 

Wa-Wa- Wanda's  Requiem, 114 

Leafing  Out, 117 

The  Chase, 119 

Branching  Out, 124 

Barren  Branches , 128 

Laterals, 132 

A  Day  in  the  Orchard 134 

Indian  Divinity, 139 

Apple-paring,  Or,  Frontier  Fashions, 144 

A  day  iu  the  Prairies,  Or,  Fire  Fighting, 148 

A  Reminiscence,  153 

Fall  of     Shooting  Cedar 158 

Epilogue, 166 

(4) 


J 


n 


Q 


TO    THE    REABEE 


For  a  writer  to  obtrude  a  book  on  the  Public, 
and  at  the  sajiie  time  comphiiu  of  want  of  mate- 
rials, or  of  time  to  work  them  up — is  all  in  bad 
taste  :  if  he  have  nothing  to  saj,  let  him  say 
nothing ;  if  he  have  not  materials  wherewith  to 
%vi'ite  a  book,  let  him  leave  it  unwritten. 

As  to  materials  in  the  present  instance,  the 
author  feels  he  has  but  uncovered  a  quarry,  the 
vein  of  which  would  grow  richer  if  the  lead  were 
followed.  lie  hopes  some  after  builder,  behold- 
ing their  fair  colors,  will  erect  the  stones  of  it 
into  a  fairer  building. 

If  he  has  lifted  higher  the  nursery  curtain  than 
is  custonuiry,  it  is  because  he  would  not  slur  over 
the  morning  of  life,  in  hastening  to  its  noon  hour 
{■>) 


Yl  TO   THE   READER. 

— as  if  it  could  never  interest  the  mind,  while 
admiring  the  man^  to  know  of  his  boyhood — 
when,  where,  and  how,  was  first  grafted  the  tree 
bearing  such  fruit  in  after  years. 

If  the  weird  character  given  Lagooche,  be  ob- 
jected to  as  apocryphal,  it  is  replied,  that  it  is 
but  the  engrafting  of  a  New  England  superstition 
upon  the  Indian  mind. 

When  New  England's  favorite  Poet,  with  a 
wise  forecast,  sought  to  rescue  the  Indian  tradi- 
tions from  oblivion — from  the  shadows  Night  was 
beginning  to  throw  across  them — he  judged  the 
Trochaic,  or  Octo-sy liable  measure  with  feminine 
endings,  of  certain  of  the  Latin  Poets,  the  most 
appropriate  vehicle,  and  seized  upon  it  accord- 
ingly. 

In  attempting  to  save  the  Legendary  lore  of 
Old  Orange,  more  especially  of  the  Wa-wayanda 
Grant,  the  same  form  of  versification  is  here  em- 
ployed. Witness  the  following  extract  from  St. 
Hildebert : 

"  Paraclitus  increatus, 
Neque  factus,  neque  natus, 
Patri  consors,  Genitoque, 
Sic  procedit  ab  utroque, 
Ne  sit  minor  paritate 
Vel  discretus  qualitate." 


TO   THE   BEADEK.  VU 

TBANSLATION  : 

Comforter,  and  Uncreated, 
Neither  made  nor  generated, 
Fellow  equal  with  the  Father, 
And  the  Only,  the  Begotten  ; 
Thence  proceeding,  interceding, 
None  the  less  because  begotten. 

To  show  up  the  vine-clusters  to  the  eje,  so  they 
can  be  seen,  and  yet  leave  enough  foliage  to  pre- 
vent the  sun  scorching  the  fruit,  -without  leaving 
too  much,  is  a  delicate  work.  In  other  words,  to 
present  wholesome,  undying  truths  to  the  mind, 
and  at  the  same  time  popularize  them,  without 
popularizing  them  too  much,  is  no  easy  task. 
Whether  success  or  faihire  awaits  tlie  present 
attempt,  is  left  with  the  reader  to  judge. 

It  is  contended,  the  beauty  is  not  all  in  the 
eye,  and  in  the  ear,  the  music,  so  much  as  in  the 
objects  themselves.  There  may  be  clouds  about 
the  mount,  po  thick  we  cannot  see  it,  even  angels 
encamped  about  it — and  we  cannot  see  tliem ; 
but  on  the  winds  springing  up,  or  the  veil  being 
lifted  from  off  our  eye,  they  depart,  and  we  see 
clearly.  Even  those  clouds  themselves  are  not 
without  their  silver  linings,  but  we  may  need  a 
kindly  hand  to  turn  tliem  inside  out  to  us. 


VIU  TO    THE    KEADER, 

The  leaves  may  be  too  thick  between  us  and 
the  clusters ;  these  need  to  be  thinned  away. 
We  then  see  the  naked,  yet  not  unadorned  fruit 
— and  are  satisfied  ;  taste,  and  are  satisfied.  The 
nioilern  error,  it  is  conceived,  is  to  pile  on  the 
foliage  to  redundancy — hiding  the  fruit,  if  not 
entirely  smothering  it. 

Many  acknowledgments  are  due  to  the  Eev.  J. 
"West,  and  to  Professor  G.  II.  Cltrtis,  for  valua- 
ble criticisms,  while  this  Idyl  was  in  progress. 
Indeed,  it  is  to  those  gentlemen,  rather  than  to 
the  Author,  the  Header  is  indebted  for  any  plea- 
sant memories — it  may  be  of  his  or  her  own 
childhood — awakened  by  the  reading. 

If  in  the  following  pages,  the  ]Muse  of  History 
and  the  Muse  of  Poetry,  in  weaving  their  wreaths, 
have  intertwined  them  too  intimately,  the  Reader 
is  fully  at  liberty  to  untwine  them  ;  the  Author 
feeling  himself  repaid  if  he  shall  have  helped  to 
beguile  a  weary  hour ;  richly  so,  to  have,  in  a 
degree,  contributed  to  deepen  in  any  mind,  senti- 
ments of  truth  and  goodness. 


n. 

INTRODUCTION. 

Winter  Pippin  was  a  Piper  ;* 
Not  a  prophet,  but  a  Piper, 
As  his  father  was  before  him  ; 
For  no  myth  was  Winter  Pippin, 
Xo  mere  form  of  faith  and  feeling. 
Or  mere  sentiment  embodied 
In  the  minds  of  all  good  people, 
In  the  mouths  of  all  good  people. 

Broad  were  his  ancestral  acres, 
Broad  the  stream  that  flowed  across  them ; 
But  he  cared  not  for  the  acres. 
Nor  the  waters  flowing  'cross  them  ; 
All  he  cared  for  was  to  wander, 
Home  was  where  the  night  o'vertook  him, 

»  Winter  Pippin,  the  chief  singer,  was  a  Half-Breed.  Like  Brandt, 
otherwise  called  Conestoge,  chief  of  the  Six  Nations— his  father  was  a 
German  and  hw  mother  a  Mohawk  Indian.  Schooled  in  the  traditions 
of  the  aborigines,  as  well  as  in  those  ofthe  whites,  his  songs  flowed  nat- 
urally along,  a  mixture  of  the  wild  and  tame,  adapted  to  his  audience, 
and  alternately  in  the  Saxon  and  \7oji  laud  tongue. 

(9) 


10  WA-WA-WANDA. 

"Wandering  minstrel,"  they  all  called  him, 
"  Winter  Pippin — Piping  Pippin." 

Large  as  were  his  lands  paternal, 
Was  his  store  of  tales  and  legends  : 
All  the  fashions  of  the  frontiers. 
From  the  first  rude  cabin  downward, 
Heirloom-like  to  him  descended  ; 

Much  he  loved  to  gather  round  him 
All  the  children  of  the  village  ; 
Nightly,  as  the  shadows  lengthened 
On  the  glebe  or  green  before  it. 
You  might — happiest  of  the  happy — 
Hear  him  piping,  piping  to  them. 

Well  he  knew  to  strike  the  key-note. 
From  the  soul's  depths  to  awaken 
Feelings  that,  unwaked,  had  slept  on  ; 
Knew  to  rouse  the  soul  to  rapture, 
Knew  to  sink  the  soul  to  sadness — 
That  whatever  strings  the  harp  hath. 
Finer  strings  the  human  heart  hath  : 
All  his  soul  was  in  his  singing, 
All  his  pleasure  in  his    playing. 

Strange  the  string  on  which  he  strung  them, 
Sti'ing  on  which  he  strung  his  stories  ; 
Oft  it  broke,  and  then  together, 
Ran  the  wild  and  tame  together  : 


WA-WA-WANDA.  11 

White  skins,  red  skins — which  soever 
Lent  his  ear,  or  her's,  to  listen — 
Heard  them  in  his  native  language. 
Be  it  Saxon,  be  it  Indian. 

But  'twas  when  the  guests  were  gathered 
In  the  great  halls  of  their  castles, 
(In  their  cedar-raftered  cabins) 
When  the  viands,  when  the  venison, 
And  the  cider  circulated — 
Not  hard  cider,  not  strong  cider 
That  brings  with  its  pains  anthritic — 
But  pure  apple  juice  as  runneth, 
When  they  press  the  pippin  pumace, 
And  the  bees  they  buz  about  it. 
Hornets,  bees -and  yellow-jackets  ; 

Then  it  was — the  wandering  Piper, 
Then  it  was  that  Winter  Pippin 
Took  them  captive  with  his  music. 
Turned  to  tears,  their  eyes  ;  to  laughter 
Turned  their  faces — alternating, 
Tears  and  laughter  alternating. 
As  a  feather  is  for  lightness. 
Would  he  set  their  hearts  afloating  ; 
As  a  stone  sinks  in  the  waters. 
Would  he  sink  their  hearts  within  them. 

Once  upon  a  like  occasion, 


12  -WA-WA-WANDA. 

When  the  guests  were  all  assembled, 
"  Wandering  Minstrel,  Winter  Pippin," 
Cried  their  hospitable  hostess, 
'*  Seest  thou  not  our  songs  are  ended, 
And  as  are  our  songs,  our  cider  ? 
Hast  thou  not,  nor  song,  nor  story, 
Neither  lay  nor  legend  left  thee?" 

Then  they  pressed  'round  Winter  Pippin, 
And  so  hard,  were  he  a  Pippin, 
All  the  juice  had  been  pressed  out  him  ; 
Pressed  him  till  the — not  the  cider — 
But  the  music,  in  such  measure 
Flowed  it  forth,  that  when  the  key-note 
It  was  struck  up,  they  all  shouted, 
"  Listen — he  is  going  to  sing  us — 
He  is  going  to  sing  of  orchards." 
And  they  all  drank  in  the  music, 
^  Drank  the  music  with  the  cider  ; 
For  as  flowed  the  one — the  other, 
Flowed  the  music,  flowed  the  cider. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  13 

III. 

PROLOGUE. 

"  Ye  who  reverence  the  old  homesteads, 
Love  to  read  the  family  annals, 
Trace  the  fashions  of  a  people. 
Of  a  people  plain  and  simple  ; 
And  the  land-marks  of  the  frontiers, 
Ere  they  stretched  their  lines  to  westward, 
Shedding  many  a  league  behind  them  ; 
Never   eastward,  ever   westward. 
Shedding  league  on  league  behind  them  ; 
While  as  yet  the  streams  were  bridgcless, 
And  for  orchards,  waved  the  wild-wood, 
And  in  place  of  peach  and  pear  tree, 
Grew  the  birch,  beach,  oak  and  maple — 
Listen  to  this  song  of  orchards. 

Ye  who  have  traced  from  mountain  meadow, 
Streams  that  widen  into  rivers, 
And  those  rivers  into  oceans ; 
In  their  depth  of  depths  reflecting 
Back  the  heavens  in  their  brightness  ; 
Groves,  to  groves  inverted,  nodding 
All  along  upon  their  borders, 
When  the  winds  arc  playing  'mong  them ; 


14  W  A- W  A- WANDA. 

Yet  at  times  those  depths  up -casting 

Mire  and  wrecks  when  He,  the  Storm-King, 

In  tempestuous  fury  stirred  them — 

Stirred,  until  the  sun,  indignant, 

Looked  out  from  his  place  of  hiding, 

Bade  the  tempest  cease  its  raging  ; 

Ye  who  love  to  watch  such  rivers 

In  their  rising,  in  their  falling. 

In  them  think  ye  see  the  surging 

Of  the  life-stream  of  a  Nation  : 

Ye  whose  hearts  are  with  your  country, 

From  its  hirth-hour  to  the  present; 

Ye  for  whom  the  past  hath  pleasures, 

Hath  a  charm  that  grows  upon  vou — 

Listen  to  this  simple  story. 

To  this  simple  song  of  Orchards. 

Ye  whom  night  hath  overtaken, 
Longing  for  the  morning's  coming — 
Watched  the  early  day,  its  struggles, 
From  the  womb  of  darkness  bursting. 
Till  its  face  be  turned  to  purple — 
Watched  its  rise,  and  watched  its  progress, 
When  the  Infant  (Science)  came  forth 
In  no  arms  of  Liberty  dandled — 
All  the  barriers  that  opposed  it, 
Chains  which  Ignorance  put  on  it — 


WA-WA-WANDA.  15 

All  the  pains  the  breast  is  heir  to, 
When  an  incubus,  twould  throw  off; 
Ye  who  have  watched  the  onward,  upward 
Strivings  of  some  Son  of  Genius 
'Gainst  great  odds  and  opposition. 
While  his  face  shone  as  an  angel, 
Face  of  some  redeeming  angel — 
Listen  to  this  song  of  Orchards. 

Ye  who  have  watched  as  well,  the  South-wind 
From  stern  winter  wrest  his  ice-lance. 
Melt  his  mountain  snows,  and  show  up 
Many  a  violet  there  smiling — 
Chase  the  mountain  torrent  vale-ward, 
Then  as  in  a  molten  mirror. 
Seen  by  Night  their  shadows  casting. 
Nightly  cast  the  stars,  their  shadows, 
All  coquetting  with  the  waters, 
Links  of  golden  chains  short  broken, 
Shining,  dancing,  pirouetting. 
As  the  Fairies  had  crossed  over. 
And  their  foot-prints  left  behind  them; 
Ye  who  Nature  thus  have  studied. 
By  such  lights  the  picture  pondered — 
Listen  to  this  song  of  Orchards. 

Ye  who  have  seen  the  deserts  blossom, 
For  the  thorn,  come  up  the  myrtle, 


16  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Maelstroms  turn  to  healing  fountains, 
Error  die — and  o'er  its  grave-stone, 
Wisdom  rear  her  seven  pillars — 
Listen  to  the  song  of  Orchards. 


lY. 
KOOT    OF    THE    TREE. 

In  the  valley  of  Wyoming, 
Through  which  trends  the  Susquehannah, 
Yet  not  in  Wyoming  valley, 
But  another  very  like  it 
In  the  far-famed  land  of  Goshen  ; 
Not  that  where  'twas  said  "  no  flies  were," 
But  between  two  hills  in  Orange, 
(Who  e'er  saw  two  hills  without  one  ?) 
There  he  lived  our  cider-maker, 
He  the  first  of  cider-makers. 

How  his  cunning  built  a  saw-mill. 
Sawed  right  through  the  Western  country. 
Into  cask-staves  sawed  the  forests. 
Threw  the  slabs  in  the  Pacific, 
Threw  the  scrags  in  the  Missouri, 


aVa-ava-wanda.  17 

(These  were  they  brought  to  the  boats  so, 
Till  they  learned  to  steer  them  better, 
Learned  the  "  right  of  way"  to  give  them  ;) 
Pitched  the  mountains  in  the  valleys, 
Filled  the  valleys  up  with  mountains, 
Cleared  the  country,  made  it  level,* 

*  The  country  was  new  when  the  scenes  forming  this  Idyl  occurred. 
Oil  the  west  bank  of  the  Otterliill  may  be  seen  at  this  day,  a  Mound,  the 
only  vestige  remaining  of  tlie  cabin  erected  by  the  first  settler  which 
was  in  1112,  in  what  is  now  called  Orange  County— then  a  wilderness. 
The  light  of  its  fteble  taper,  like  some  lonely  but  friendly  star,  threw 
its  maiden  and  modest  rays  upon  the  wilderness  of  Wawayanda." 

The  only  settlement  was  where  New  Windsor  now  is,  and  even  that 
was  an  Indian  one.  "Westward  from  it  wound  a  blazed  path ,  afterward, 
a  bridle  path.  Sarah,  the  original  of  Buuch  of  Blossoms,  and  the  first 
white  woman  who  set  foot  on  the  Patent,  was  often  heard  to  say,  how 
after  cros.'^ing  the  Hudson  with  her  bag  of  meal  in  her  birch  canoe  pad- 
dled with  her  own  hands,  she  would  stop  to  play  with  the  pappooses 
rolicking  on  the  river  bank  ;  then  mounting  her  horse  with  her  bag  of 
meal,  would  thread  her  way  through  the  forest.  When  unable  to  reach 
home  before  dark,  she  would  dismount,  tether  her  horse,  unlimber  her 
bag,  and  climbing  a  tree  to  protect  herself  from  wild  animals,  lash  her- 
self fa.st  to  a  limb — and  wish  for  day. 

"  The  presence  and  energy  of  Sarah,  were  soon  followed  by  the  foot- 
steps of  thousands — the  sound  of  the  wood-man's  axe,  as  it  resounded 
along  the  silent  banks  of  the  Otterkill,  and  through  the  valleys  and  hill- 
tops of  Wawayanda,  was  soon  echoed  by  th3  multiplied  blows  of  the 
hardy  settlers  as  they  came  in  and  planted  their  dwellings. 

"The  cljarings  thus  in'.tiated  by  Denn,  the  Patentee,  opened  the  thick 
forest  foliage,  and  the  sun  in  noon  tide  glory  lit  up  and  warmed  it  by 
the  blaze  of  his  beams.  The  furrows  which  followed  his  ploughshare 
marked  out  the  boundary  lines  uf  a  thousand  homesteads,  on  which 
Industry  with  her  handmaids,  garnered  up  wealth  and  revelled  in 


18  WA-WA-WANDA, 

Under  drained  it,  and  then  fenced  it, 
With  his  rails  of  cedar  fenced  it; 

Yoking  to  his  plough  two  mammoths, 
In  the  true  Titanic  fashion,* 
Ploughed  two  furrows  to  the  Northward, 
Bade  the  younger  Lakes  run  in  them,t 

domestic  happiness.  The  seed  then  cast  into  the  virgin  soil,  grew  and 
ripened,  and  has  since  been  disseminated  over  the  broad  bosom  of  the 
Patent,  and  now  waves  gracefully  to  every  passing  breeze.  The  off- 
spring of  the  cattle  which  at  that  early  day  grazed  the  wild  herbage  in 
the  shade,  and  slaked  their  thirst  in  the  gentle  waters  of  the  stream'— 
are  heard  to  low,  and  seen  to  wander,  on  a  thousand  hills. 

"  The  Bed  men  of  the  wood-lands  have  departed,  and  the  indomitable 
Saxons  possess  their  dwellings.  The  fires  of  the  wigwam  and  the  war- 
dance  are  extinguished,  and  Christian  temples,  as  they  send  up  their 
tall  spu-es  to  heaven,  are  lit  up  by  the  mild  and  benignant  beams  of  the 
Gospel.'" — See  Eager's  Orange  County. 

■*"  The  tooth  the  two  Dutchmen  showed  me,  is  in  form,  a  human 
tooth.  All  the  Surgeons  in  town  have  seen  it  and  pronounce  it  such. 
It  measures  6  in.  long,  13  around,  and  weighs  2  lbs  3  oz.  Troy.  They 
found  it  50  miles  South-west  of  Albany. 

I  am  of  opinion  the  tooth  will  agree  only  to  a  human  body,  for  whom 
only  the  Flood  could  prepare  a  funeral.  Without  doubt  he  waded  as 
long  as  he  could  keep  his  head  above  the  clouds,  but  was  at  length  con- 
founded with  all  other  creatures,  and  the  new  sediment  after  the  Flood, 
gave  him  the  depth  it  was  found  in.."— Vide  Gov.  Dudley  to  Rev'd.  Cotton 
Mather,  July  \0,  1706. 

■f-  The  Six  Nations  have  a  tradition,  an  Invisible  Hand  once  drained 
off  the  Genesee  country.  And  so  there  did  ;  howbeit,  they  knew  Him 
not.  And  the  course  of  the  younger  lakes,  their  northern  outlets,  and 
"the  lay  of  the  land"— all  render  it  probable.  But  while  the  partial 
draining  off  of  these,  has  probable  reference  to  the  time  when  the  waters 


WA'WA-WANDA.  19 

Onondaga  and  Oneida 

In  the  furrow  called  Oswego  ; 

Skaneat'lea  and  sweet  Seneca 

Through  the  valley  Genesee  ; 

Seneca,  the  never-freezing,* 

Owing  to  a  heat  it  got  in  ; 

Skaneat'les  which  the  heavens 

One  day  blest  with  their  own  color — f 

Turned  them  to  the  Big  Lakes  Northward, 

Drowning  all  the  French  and  Indians, 

Till  they  dammed  them  up,  and  rushed  them 

Eastward  through  the  great  St.  Lawrence. 

Only  one  there  was,  ran  no  way, 
Thirsty,  turning  up  such  furrows, 
His  big  Oxen  drank  it  all  up — 

of  the  Flood  "  were  assuaged"— the  drying  up  of  the  shallower  lakes, 
forming  their  bottoms  into  prairies  with  their  interminable  flower-beds, 
was  a  subsequent  and  gradual  work,  accomplished  in  good  time  against 
the  wants  of  an  increasing  population. 

*  There  is  no  record  of  Seneca  Lake,  though  it  be  a  body  of  fresh  wa- 
ter, ever  having  frozen  over,  the  coldest  Winter.  The  secret  is  found  in 
a  spring  at  the  bottom. 

t  Skaneateles  Lake  water  is  well  known  to  be  bluer  than  any  of  ita 
BLSter  lakes,  Owasco  not  excepted.  It  was  a  fancy  of  the  Conestoge  Chief, 
(Brandt.)  the  heavens  used  to  be  nearer  the  earth  once  than  now  ;  that 
on  their  bending  down  to  admire  their  face  in  the  Lake  and  bathe  there- 
in,—the  waters  became  enamored  of  their  blue  color,  and  ran  off  with  it, 
—running  blue  to  this  day. 


20  AVA-WA-WANDA. 

Then  a  final  furrow   eastward 
To  out  let  the  under  drainings, 
And  the  Sachems  named  it  Mohawk; 
Here  his  Oxen  mired  and  perished,* 
Waded  in  too  far,  and  perished — 

How  'twas  thus  our  Cider-Maker 
Cleared  the  country,  laid  it  level, 
Named  it,  tamed  it,  trenched  it,  fenced  it, 
Ploughed  the  prairies,  set  out  orchards 
From  his  nursery  in  Old  Orange, f 
And  set  all  the  countries  making, 

*  Their  remains  were  not  found  till  in  1782.  The  bed  they  were  founct 
in  was  of  mud,  ten  feet ;  shell  marl,  three  feet ;  red  moss,  one  foot ;  peet, 
two  feet — the  mud  being  below,  the  peet  above.  Length  of  spinal  pro- 
cess, two  feet  one  inch  ;  width  of  osciput,  two  feet  seven  inches  ;  pelvis, 
six  feet  one  inch  ;  circumference  of  tusks,  two  feet  one  inch  ;  length  of 
skeleton  complete,  thirty-three  feet.  These  perfect  skeletons  were  dug 
up  three  miles  south  of  Montgomery,  and  were  visited  by  General  'Wash- 
ington while  encamped  at  Newburgh. —  Vide  Eager's  Orange  County. 

f  On  a  chilly  March  morning  might  have  been  seen  a  man,  making  Ms 
way  on  foot  from  Newtown,  Long  Island,  through  Rockland,  then  a 
part  of  Orange,  toward  the  new  settlement  on  Denn's  Patent ;  his  great- 
coat pockets  stuffed  with  what,  by  a  school-boy  of  that  day,  might  have 
been  taken  for  a  bundle  of  whips.  They  were  the  cuttings  from  a  Pip- 
pin tree,  fbr  the  first  time  finding  their  way  into  that  region. 

Little  dreamed  he  then,  the  fruit  of  the  after  growth  of  the  grafts  then 
promiscuously  mixed  up  in  his  pocket  with  barlow-knife  and  tobacco- 
box,  would,  in  a  few  generations,  be  exported  in  cargo  quantities  to  the 
shores  of  Albion,  and  prized  above  either  orange  or  banana,  by  the  pip- 
pin-loving dames  of  Havana. 


WA'WA-WAXDA.  21 

And  tlie  cities,  cider  drinking — 
This  we  leave  to  Minstrels  older, 
Leave  to  better  Bards  to  tell  you — 
At  this  well  we  leave  our  pitcher, 
And  turn  down  the  stream  descending. 

Should  you  ask  me  of  this  Cider 
"Which  has  linked  itself  to  story, 
And  has  wrought  such  revolutions 
In  the  morals  of  a  people, 
In  a  people's  modes  and  manners — 
What  the  apples  it  was  made  of, 
Whether  Russets,  Pearmius,  Pippins, 
Newtown  Pippins,  or  if  Goldens, 

Spitzeubergs,  or  Seck-no-furthers, 

AVhich  the  most  fastidious  pause  at 

And  take  breath  ere  tasting  further, 

Running  down  the  list  of  apples  ; 
On  what  hill,  or  in  what  valley. 

Lived  the  man  who  reared  the  orchard, 

What  his  father's  patronymic, 

Whom  he  wed  and  what  her  dower ; 

What  the  season.  Spring  or  Autumn, 

When  the  apple  trees  he  set  out ; 

IIow  they  branched,  and  how  they  blossomed 

Twice  before  they  took  to  bearing ; 

How  the  partridge  picked  the  buds  off, 


22  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Picked  the  buds  off  in  the  snow  time,* 

If  but  "  seedlings"  or  were  "  grafted," 

Were  they  "  windfalls,"  or  were  "  hand-picked," 

As  they  should  be  if  to  keep  well ; 

Or  to  jump  the  orchard  over. 

And  to  cut  in  two  my  story. 

Cut  the  apples,  cut  the  tap  off. 

And  come  to  the  pint  (?)  of  Cider — 

If  you  listen,  I  will  tell  you. 

How  we  got  it  in  the  cellar, 
Got  the  barrel  in  the  cellar. 
Through  the  grating  wide  and  narrow  ; 
Through  the  wide  and  narrow  grating, 
How  we  lowered  it,  how  we  floored  it. 
How  we  rolled  it,  how  we  bored  it, 
How  we  scotched  it,  tipped  it,  tapped  it ; 
With  the  great  big  auger  bored  it. 
With  the  little  gimblet  tapped  it ; 
How  at  first  it  would  not  run  out. 
Till  we  gave  it  vent — let  air  in  ; 
How  it  spurted  when  we  did  that. 
In  a  grand  parabola  spurted, 

*  It  may  not  be  known  generally,  but  for  the  apple-tree  buds,  the 
partridge  would  be  put  on  short  allowance  when  the  ground  is  snow- 
covered.  Then  the  tender  buds  of  the  apple  tree  yields  them  a  timely 
supply.  Only  in  the  early  dawn,  and  at  evening  twilight,  are  they  to  be 
found  thus  foraging. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  23 

Fussed  and  frothed,  and  ere  we  knew  it, 
Ran  a  pail  full,  and  the  cellar 
Soon  had  filled  had  it  been  smaller  ; 
How  we  sipped  and  danced  around  it, 
Left  it  lower  than  we  found  it — 

'Twere  too  long,  and  time  would  fail  us, 
Me  to  tell,  or  you  to  hear  it : 
And  as  seeing  is  believing. 
And  as  tasting  is  still  better. 
Come  in  when  the  Cider's  running, 
And  before  it  be  done  running, 
And  it  is  yourself  shall  answer 
If  not  all  be  true,  I  tell  you — 
Tell  you  of  this  branch  of  farm-craft. 

But  the  art  of  cider  making, 
And  the  time  of  moon  for  taking 
Apples  to  be  ground  to  pumace. 
As  the  fashion  still  of  some  is — 
How  they  sort  them,  how  they  cheese  them, 
How  they  grind  them,  how  they  squeeze  them, 
How  they  barrel  it,  and  bung  it 
After  they  have  carefully  racked  it ; 
How  they  whisper  secrets  to  it, 
Bid  it  never  lose  its  sweetness. 
Since  sour  cider  makes  sour  people  ; 
Bid  it  work,  but  work  no  mischief. 


24  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Bid  it  froth  not  out  the  bung-hole. 
But  be  gentle,  and  yet  lively, 
Not  as  when  it  burst  the  hoops  off  ; 
Bid  it  last  till  next  year  come  round — 

These  were  more  than  I  may  tell  you  : 
Too  much  knowledge  sometimes  paineth  ; 
They  are  happiest  who  pluck  not, 
Pluck  the  fruit  too  green,  too  rashly 
From  the  mystic  tree  of  knowledge, 
Knowledge  both  of  good  and  evil. 
Only  this  the  Muse  withholds  not : 
Manitou  his  blessing  granted 
To  the  man  who  reared  the  orchard, 
And  the  apple  trees  within  it, 
And  the  apples  that  grew  on  them, 
And  the  cider  that  flowed  from  them — 
Brought  us  barrelled,  bunged  or  bottled 
After  it  had  worked  its  passage. 


WA--WA-WANDA.  25 


KATUEAL     BRANCHES. 

In  the  far-off,  the  dark  ages, 
Grew  a  tree  leai-ned  men  call  Upas, 
And  a  son  of  Ishmael  tapped  it ; 
In  a  cavern  dark  and  gloomy, 
Where  the  angels  could  not  see  him, 
From  that  tree  a  juice  extracted 
Through  alembics,  crooked,  devilish, 
Steamed,  distilled,  and  vilely  drugged  it, 
And  made  all  the  nations  drink  it. 
Made  them  hate  and  kill  each  other, 
Made  wives,  widows, — children  orphans, 
Worse  than  widows — worse  than  orphans. 

Then  it  was,  our  cider-maker, 
Feeling  each  one  was  his  brother. 
And  should  be  his  brother's  keeper  ; 
Not  as  Cain  who  would  not  own  him, — 
Cast  about  to  wean  them  from  it,* 
From  the  fatal  juice  to  wean  them. 

Binding  up  their  wounds,  he  bade  them 
Henceforth  love  each  other  better, 

*  The  stand  nobly  taken  by  "Wa-Wa-Wanda,  in  resisting  further  use  of 
Fire-AVater  among  the  p-ople,  was  conjointly  owing  to  his  consort's 
connselB  and  his  own  far  seeing  mind. 

2 


26  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Saying,  "  Better  drink  I'll  make  you, 
Such  as  leaves  no  pains  behind  it, 
Grives  a  man  the  strength  of  two  men, 
Made  the  sons  of  Anak  lusty. 
Made  Ahasuerus  clever 
When  Hadassah  pledged  him  in  it 
At  the  Royal  Cider  Banquet. 

'Twas  not  this  made  Alexander 
In  one  night  his  kingdom  squander  ; 
Wanting  it,  Adoni-bezek 
Lost  the  battle  and  was  taken, 
Had  to  have  his  thumbs  and  toes  off : 
Oh,  the  crooks  the  world  had  got  in, 
Got  in  through  the  want  of  Cider  I" 

Here  he  ceased,  and  each  one  buried, 
In  the  ground  his  hatchet  buried. 
Emptied  out,  and  broke  their  bottles  ; 
And  his  hand  they  took,  and  promised 
They  would  love  each  other  better ; 
Swore  that  they  would  swear  no  longer, 
Would  no  more  devour  each  other, 
But  in  friendship  live,  and  labor 
To  repair  their  fallen  fortunes  : 
Shined  the  face  then,  of  our  Hero, 
As  if  he  had  been  an  angel, 
Face  of  some  Redeeming  Angel. 


"WA'-WA-WANDA.  27 

VI. 

THE    COMBAT. 

Virtue,  though  to  triumph  destined, 
Oft  must  struggle  for  its  birth-right, 
For  its  birth-right  oft  must  struggle  ;' 
Must  go  forth,  and  single-handed, 
With  the  opposing  angel  wrestle. 
Though  it  be  till  the  morning  dawneth  ; 
Vice  that  angel — the  Dark  Angel, 
Having  'mong  the  tombs  his  dwelling, 
Having  his  empire  in  the  bosom. 
Having  for  his  name — Fire-Water. 

Forth  he  cometh  now  to  meet  him. 
Blear  of  eye  with  bloated  visage, 
Like  one  from  debauch  just  risen, 
Strong  and  weak  by  turns — and  grasping 
In  his  hand  his  ebon  sceptre. 
As  the  tyrant  grasps  his  sceptre. 
Grasps  it  all  the  tighter,  fiercer. 
When  he  feels  it  is  departing. 

"Comest  to  wrest  from  me  my  kingdom  ?" 
Said  Fire-Water  to  our  Hero  : 
"  From  the  days  of  Shamgar  have  I 
Undisputed  held  dominion  ; 


28  WA-WA-WAiq^DA. 

Look — if  thou  canst  count  the  number, 
Count  the  rfumber  of  my  subjects, 
And  my  victims  are  my  subjects  : 
Show  thy  triumph — I  will  show  thee, 
Thousands  for  thy  one — will  show  thee  ; 
Aye — from  kings  upon  the  throne,  down 
To  the  meanest  of  their  vassals— 
They  have  felt  my  reign  of  terror  ^ 
'Neath  me,  as  upon  an  altar. 
Laid  they  down  that  I  might  rule  them, 
With  my  rod  of  iron  rule  them. 

And  my  foot  I  planted  on  them. 
On  their  necks  my  foot  I  planted. 
Have  I  not  my  minioiis  with  me  ? 
By  them  have  as  many  fallen 
Through  the  promises  they  made  them, 
Made,  not  to  be  kept,  but  broken, 
As  have  by  my  chalice  stumbled : 
Think  before  thou  wrestle  with  me  I" 

Here  the  angel  ceased,  and  frowning, 
Hurled  his  heavy  gaunlet  at  him  ; 
Hurled,  as  best  he  could,  the  creature, 
Cringing  as  the  Serpent  cringeth. 
Coiled,  and  with  his  crest  uplifted ; 
And  then  prone  upon  his  belly. 
Crawled  away  upon  his  belly. 


WA-WA-WA2fDA.  29 

As  he  cravrled  once  out  of  Eden — 
When  its  first  ripe  fruits  he  tainted,    • 
And  defiled  the  First  of  Flowers. 

Thereat,  "Wa-Wa- Wanda,  strong  in, 
Strong  in  virtue,  overtook  him, 
Dealt  him,  not  with  carnal  weapons, 
But  a  blow  with  all  his  brightness ; 
Wrestled  vith,  and  had  o'ercome  him, 
But  the  angel  of  the  darkness 
Summoned  to  his  side  his  minions. 
Summoned  Thirst,  and  Lust,  and  Mammon ; 
All  who  by  such  craft  their  gains  had — 
And  they  helped  the  fallen  angel. 

Then  Fire-Water,  wounded,  bleeding, 
Bleeding,  but  not  dead  nor  dying, 
Feeling  his  craft  it  was  endangered, 
Plied  his  vile  arts  to  the  utmost ; 
Dealt  no  blows,  because  he  well  knew. 
Proof  was  Wa-Wa-Wanda  'gainst  them  : 
All  his  chance  lay  in  his  vile  arts  ; 
Plied  them — but  in  vain  he  plied  them, 
Saying,  "  Art  thou  Wa-Wa-Wanda 
That  has  opened  war  upon  me  ? 
Let  us^live  in  peace  together, 
And  as  I  am,  so  shalt  thou  be. 

I  have  weakened  nerves  as  steady, 


30  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Made  cheeks  pale  that  were  as  ruddy. 
Forms  have  shriveled,  once  as  noble. 
Buoyant  hopes  as  thine,  have  blasted, 
Withered  laurels  green  as  thine  are — 
With  my  deadly  Night-Shade  did  it. 

Canst  thou  mend  the  hearts  I've  broken, 
Bring  back  to  the  cheek,  the  roses, 
Fill  the  mouths  which  1  have  emptied, 
Bring  back  from  the  grave  its  tenants  ; 
Or  the  kings  of  many  nations 
There  that  sleep — but  not  in  glory  ? — 
Show  thy  triumphs — I  will  show  thee, 
Thousands  for  thy  one  will  show  thee  !" 

Then  his  forked  tongue  concealing, 
But  with  crest  uplifted,  plied  he 
Well  his  arts  on  Wa-Wa-Wanda, 
Wove  his  spells  and  his  enchantments. 
Made  him  thirst  and  then  presented 
To  his  feverish  lips  his  chalice — 
Wa-Wa-Wanda  would  not  drink  it. 

Next,  his  neck-rings  they  ran  off  him. 
Into  rainbows  ran  around  him, 
All  the  colors  of  the  rainbow. 
All  the  beauty  that  beguileth, 
All  the  music  that  enchanteth  ; 
And  his  eye  took  in  the  beauty, 


WA-WA-WANDA.  31 

And  his  ear  took  in  the  music, 
All  the  beauty,  all  the  music  ; 
But  they  could  not  hurt  our  Hero  : 
Strong  in  virtue,  he  defied  them. 
Saying,  "  Vain  your  charms  upon  me  I 
Yes,  I  know  thou'st  unnerved  many, 
Turned  the  ruddiest  cheek  to  paleness, 
Bowed  the  manliest  form  to  meanness, 
"Withered  on  many  a  brow  the  laurel. 
Laid  in  dust  the  fairest  flowers. 
Crushed  full  many  a  hope  immortal — 
By  thy  cursed  spell  hast  done  it, 
But  no  spell  canst  thou  cast  o'er  me. 

Jvay — thy  deeds  exceed  thy  vauntings  : 
Thou  canst  look  upon  thy  victims 

Without  feeling  shame,  or  pity  ; 

Stop  thine  ear  when  Squalor  pleadeth, 

As  if  thou'dst  a  heart  within  thee 

That  could  kindle  with  relentings. 

Thou'st  made  widows,  and  then  robbed  them  ; 

And  as  if  that  were  too  little, 

Clothed  in  shame,  their  sons  and  daughters — 

This  thou'st  done,  and  hast  not  pitied  ; 

Therefore  am  I  sent  to  slay  thee  : 

Thou  shalt  fall,  and  thy  craft  with  thee. 
As  a  stench  in  Virtue's  nostrils. 


32  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Hast  thou  been  for  generations  ; 

As  a  stench  in  Virtue's  nostrils, 

Shalt  thou  be  no  more  forever — 

But  as  a  burntout  Volcano, 

On  whose  lava,  on  whose  scoriae, 

Hence  shall  grow  the  peaceful  olive. 

Hence  shall  grow  the  vine  that  cheereth, 

Hence  shall  grow  the  corn  that  strengtheneth 

'Twixt  Orion  and  the  Pleiads, 

It  is  written  I  it  is  written  !" 

Then  a  mortal  wound  he  gave  him. 
Sent  him  limping,  bleeding,  howling  : 
In  that  bleeding,  in  that  howling, 
Wa-Wa- Wanda  saw  the  dawning 
Of  his  people's  day  of  freedom 
From  the  rod  of  the  oppressor  ; 
Heard  a  nation's  chains  fall  off  it — 
Sounds  as  sweet  as  angels  singing, 
To  the  ear  of  "Wa-Wa-Wanda. 

As  the  sun  forth  from  his  chamber, 
When  he  has  the  darkness  scattered. 
Comes,  and  as  he  comes,  rejoieeth  ; 
As  the  victor  o'er  the  vanquished 
Gathers  up  his  spoils  and  shoutelh — 
From  the  conflict  came  our  Hero 
With  his  laurels  thick  upon  him  ; 


WA.-WA-WANDA.  33 

Brighter  than  heraldic  honors, 
They  embhizon  his  escutcheon  ; 
For  a  nation's  blessing  crowned  him, 
Crowned  the  head  of  Wa-Wa- Wanda. 

Oh,  'tis  not  on  fields  ensanguined 
That  are  won  the  greenest  laurels  ! 
Kor  are  victories  that  are  bloodless, 
Easier  gained  than  those  that  are  not, 
Of  less  worth  than  those  that  are  not : 
Though  outshines  the  man,  the  hero, 
By  so  much  more  he  outshines  both — 
Whoso  ruleth  his  own  spirit. 


VII. 

CABIK    BUILDING. 

In  the  month  of  water-cresses. 
Not  of  strawberries,  not  of  green  corn, 
But  of  cresses,  water-cresses — 
Went  a  Maid  of  sixteen  summers,* 

*  The  pious  mission  of  a  white  girl  among  the  frontier- tribes,  and  her 
intermarriage  with  an  Indian  Brave,  is  not  without  precedent.  Like 
Naumi  and  licr  expedition  into  Moab,  she  took  her  religion  with  her, 
and  hence  the  pious  training  of  Shooting  Cedar  ;  though  in  naming  the 
fruits  of  that  union,  she  adopted  her  Indian  husband's  style. 


34  WA-WA-AVANDA. 

To  tlie  regions  of  the  sun-set ; 
Through  the  tangle  and  the  dingle 

0  the  regions  of  the  sun-set. 

Wherefore  westward  went  the  maiden, 
in  the  month  of  Water-cresses  ? 
Seeks  she  gems  to  grace  her  tresses, 
Fairer  flowers  or  birds  more  tuneful  ? — 
Home  is  home,  however  humble, 
And  the  face  of  friends  far  fairer, 
And  their  tones  more  sweet,  than  strangers' ; 
Wherefore,  then,  wends  west  the  maiden 
Jn  the  month  of  water-cresses  ? 

Comes  and  goes,  her  cheek,  its  color, 
As  her  savage  guide,  he  bears  him  ; 
Long  the  day  and  long  the  journey — 
Welcome  is  the  night  that  ends  both. 
Dusky  grows  the  hour — more  dusky 
Grow  the  forms  of  men  around  her  ; 
Dark  and  swarthy  are  their  faces. 
But  their  hearts  are  white  within  them ; 
Sharp  and  shining  are  their  weapons, 
But  they're  raised  for,  not  against,  her. 

Then  in  wood-land  tongue  they  counsel, 
Saying   "  Here  a  Dove  hath  lighted. 
But  no  fitting  nest  receives  her." 
Then  they  haste  and  fell  the  big  trees ; 


WA-WA-WAKDA.  35 


Fast  they  fall,  and  split  in  falling, 
And  a  cabin  rises  from  them  ;* 


*  On  this  wise  was  their  first  night's  bivouac  :— Twenty  weary  miles' 
march  through  an  unbroken  and  pathless  wilderness,  brought  them  to 
the  bank  of  the  Otterkill.  The  pack-horses  unloaded,  were  turned  loose 
to  graze,  and  the  cows,  to  browse  ;  but  not  till  their  bell-clappers  were 
first  unloosed,  when  commenced  that  ding-dong,  tinkle-tinkle,  that,  like 
some  clappers  of  another  sort,  seems  as  if  it  never  would  stop. 

The  boughs  of  a  few  hornbeam  and  hemlock  were  lopped  off  green  and 
spread  upon  sticks  laid  across  crotches  driven  in  the  ground.  These 
served  to  .spread  a  blanket-bed  upon  in  one  comer.  A  fire  was  next  kin- 
dled in  the  middle,  which  served  the  double  purpose  of  cooking  their 
evening  meal  and  keeping  the  rattle  snakes  off.  The  smoke  issued 
through  a  three-feet-square  hole  in  the  roof.  This  served  also  for  a  sky- 
light. Sarah's  only  comment  was,  "  What  a  hole  to  huddle  into  in  bad 
■weather!" 

The  ceremony  of  unpacking  their  few  cooking  utensils  and  provisions, 
cumne,  was  next  gone  through  with  ;  the  knives  and  forks  being  found 
rolled  up  in  bed-clothes  ;  salt,  spices,  ribbons  and  sugar,  in  an  iron  pot; 
soap  and  candles,  in  a  leather  wallet.  As  an  accompaniment  to  the 
music  ('•■)  of  rattling  dishes,  coffee-grinding  and  ham-frying  within,  was 
heard  without,  the  hoot  of  the  owl,  the  bark  of  the  wolf-dog  and  scream 
of  the  panther. 

Supper  over,  they  slept.  The  tinkling  of  the  cow-bells,  the  waters  of 
the  swollen  Otterkill,  making  music  as  they  rushed  on,  the  howl  of  the 
wolf  and  cry  of  the  catamount,  as  they  prowled  around  their  new  encamp- 
ment, broke  not  their  slumbers.  The  white  laborers  slept  hard  and  irreg- 
ular as  if  in  the  struggles  of  death,  or  pressed  down  by  an  incubus  hea'vy 
as  the  Wawayanda  hills. 

Not  so  with  .Sarah  and  her  Indian  footman  :  the  latter,  now  at  home 
along  his  native  stream,  threw  himself  on  the  ground  with  his  feet  to  the 
fire,  and  seemed  to  slumber,  though  he  never  slept.  That  owl-hoot, 
catamount-cry,  panther-scream,  and  the  stream  as  it  flowed,  were  all 
beard  by  him  and  drank  in  as  so  much  forest-music.  The  slumbers 
of  Sarah  were  deep  and  fitful  by  turns  :  at  one  moment,  in  her  dreams, 


36  wa-wa-wa:nda. 

Lends  it  light,  the  star  of  evening, 
But  they  need  not  now  its  shining  ; 

she  was  seated  by  Madam  Demi's  side,  relating  incidents  of  the  journey 
and  slept  sweetly  as  an  infant  in  its  cradle  ;  at  another,  she  saw  an 
Indian  approach  her  couch,  with  tomahawk  uplifted,  ready  to  strike — 
and  the  agony  of  the  vision  would  awake  her.  At  such  times  her  copper- 
colored  companion  was  sure  to  quiet  her  fears ;  letting  her  know  by 
signs  he  was  awake,  guarding  her  slumbers,  and  had  heard  her  scream. 
Thus  Sarah,  like  lamb  among  lions  that  she  was,  passed  her  first  night. 
The  morning  that  succeeded  was  one  of  unusual  beauty. 

The  wigwam  itself  was  built  on  the  west  side  of  the  creek,  and  was  in 
size,  sixteen  by  eighteen.  At  the  coniers  were  dug  holes  in  the  ground, 
and  crotches  set  in  them  for  posts.  Poles  were  then  laid  on  these 
for  plates.  A  trench  was  next  excavated  outside,  to  drain  off  the  water. 
In  these,  palisades  of  split  logs  were  .set  up  on  end,  leaning  inward 
against  the  plates.  Outside,  and  at  two  opposite  ends  of  the  structure, 
two  other  higher  crotches  were  erected  to  hold  the  ridge-pole  deter- 
mining the  height  and  pitch  of  the  roof.  The  roof  was  formed  of  poles 
for  rafters,  covered  with  brush  and  bark  of  the  trees  they  had  felled  for 
palisades. 

The  pots  and  kettles  were  suspended  by  chains  from  a  truunel  laid 
across  two  crotches.  The  fire  was  kindled  on  a  hearthstone  laid  under- 
neath. A  split  log  eight  feet  long,  flat  side  up,  resting  on  wooden  pins  at 
each  end,  served  for  a  table.  A  slab  of  same  length  and  rig,  served 
to  seat  the  family  circle  at  it. 

Though  this  would  not  be  particularly  stylish  and  genteel  in  city  cir- 
cles, in  its  place,  it  was  comfortable,  friendly  and  sociable.  The  reader 
doubtless  could  now  go  to  work  and  construct  a  hut  equally  elegant  and 
commodious.  It  is  being  done  daily  in  the  yet  unsettled  regions  of  the 
West. 

That  mode  of  structure,  erected  in  a  single  day  by  a  few  laborers  in 
the  midst  of  a  wilderness — in  the  great  economy  of  settling  the  earth' 
and  in  point  of  beneficial  results — far  exceeded  the  costly  Pyramids  of 
Egypt,  reared  through  the  reigns  of  successive  Kings,  by  the  toil  and 
blood  of  thousands,  on  the  banks  of  that  other  stream — the  Nile.    One. 


"WA-WA-WANDA.  3T 

For  a  broader,  brighter  blazoth 
On  the  hearthstone  of  the  cabin. 
Like  a  lonely  star,  but  friendly, 
Beams  it  through  the  forest  foliage  ; 
Wild  eyes  peering  out,  behold  it, 
Saying,  "  'Tis  the  Star  of  Evening 
Come  to  light  us  through  the  darkness  ; 
And  she  lighted  up  their  darkness, 
Told  them  of  another,  brighter,  ' 
Which  the  Prophet  saw  in  vision  ; 
And  they  thanked  and  loved  the  pale-face, 
For  the  purer  light  she  showed  them. 

For  she  had  said,  "  Whoso  beholds  it. 
Purer  grows  by  being  shone  on. 
Pure  by  being  purely  shone  on  ; 
All  the  stains  upon  his  nature, 
All  the  plague-spots  of  his  being 
Fly  it  as  the  night  the  morning. 
As  the  night  the  morning  flyeth  ; 
Only  that,  the  outer  temple. 
This,  its  inner  chamber,  hallows. 

Ye  who  love  the  star,  its  shining, 
On  your  hearts  their  hearth-stones  shining, 

■was  the  busy  virtuous  abode  of  the  liviiij,',  and  ulieltered  the  parent  of  a 
numerous  race  ;  the  other,  was  but  the  cold  sepulchre  of  a  tyrant 
dead. —  Vide  Eagrr't  Ofange  County. 


43G787 


3S  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Star  of  Jacob,  seen  of  Balaam — 
Come,  behold  it  !  come,  behold  it ! 
Not  as  when  the  Prophet  saw  it 
From  the  hill-top,  dim  and  distant ; 
Not  as  when  in  clay  eclipsed  'twas— 
But  full-orbed,  and  rising  higher, 
Ever  rising,  never  setting. 
Ye  who  feel  the  plague-spots  on  you, 
Feel  the  night  is  dark  about  you — 
Come,  behold  it !  come,  behold  it !" 

As  a  pebble  dropped  in  mid-lake, 
Wide  and  wider  grow  the  circles. 
Till  they  break  in  music  shore-ward  ; 
As  an  air-wave  put  in  motion. 
Round  and  round  the  earth  vibrateth, 
Rests  not  from  its  undulations. 
Till  it  on  Eternity's  shore-sands 
Breaks  in  everlasting  music — 
So  the  words  she  dropped  among  them, 
Went  on,  on,  on,  undulating, 
Till  like  seeds  they  germinated, 
In  their  hearts'  soil  rooted,  grew  up, 
Grew  to  trees  of  fruits  immortal. 

And  the  people,  eating  of  them, 
Of  those  fruits  immortal  eating 
By  the  light  of  that  star's  shining, — 


WA-WA-WANDA.  39 

Felt  the  darkness  disappearing, 

Felt  the  dross  depart  their  nature, 

Lost  their  plague-spots,  lost  their  paining ; 

When  obscessed,  they  knelt  and  worshipped — 

With  her  at  the  altar  worshipped. 

Praying — saying,  "  Thou  Great  Spirit  ! 
Wash  the  war-paint  from  our  hearts,  each, 
Make  them  pure  and  white  within  us. 
Make  our  hands  strong — not  for  evil. 
Weak — but  not  for  good,  but  evil. 
Give  us  much  of  bear  and  bison  ; 
Teach  us  how  to  love  each  other. 
Give  us  much  of  bear  and  bison." 

But  the  cabin  which  they  built  her, 
In  the  deep  green  wood,  and  solemn, 
Stood  it  not  alone  forever  : 
Soon  another  and  another, 
Then  another  and  another 
Sent  their  smoke  up  in  the  morning, 
Wreathed  in  smoke  each  morn  the  tree  tops, 
Lighted  up  each  night  the  darkness  ; 
Till  the  valleys,  hills  and  streamlets, 
Each  reflected  back  their  beaming  : 
Till  the  wood  was  light  with  cabins. 
And  those  cabins  light  with  white  squaws  : 

So  when  dies  the  day — in  glory 


40  WA-WA-WANDA. 

From  the  realms  of  ether  shining, 
One  by  one  from  out  their  chambers, 
Come  the  stars  and  light  the  night  up, 
Till  the  heavens  seem  paved  with  jewels, 
Stones  of  ophir  set  in  sapphire — 
Therefore  westward  went  the  maiden, 
In  the  month  of  water-cresses. 

But  the  cabin  it  was  roofless. 
And  they  said  to  one  another, 
"  See,  the  Pale-Face's  cheek  is  tender  : 
Lest  the  dews  of  night  descending. 
Fall  upon  and  hurt  the  pale-face — 
Let  us  roof  her  cabin  over." 
Then  with  brush  and  bark  they  roofed  it, 
And  the  dews  of  night  descending, 
Fell  not  on  nor  hurt  the  pale-face. 

Boots  it  not  to  sing  when  finished. 
Of  the  architectural  beauty 
Of  that  wigwam  in  the  wild-wood  ; 
Only  deigns  the  Muse  to  tell  us 
Of  the  ancient  Indian  custom  * 

*  This  IS  an  indirect  appeal  to  a  higher  Power.  The  sentiment,  what- 
ever form  it  take,  might  be  copied  with  advantage  by  the  Pale- Faces 
That  it  should  have  formed  a  part  of  the  religious  rites  of  their  Red 
Brothers  is  remarkable,  and  as  such,  deserving  notice.  It  was  held  by 
them  as  a  religious  rite,  never  to  furnish  and  occupy  a  wigwam,  till  they 
had  first  secured  the  blessing.    To  secure  this  blessing,  a  woman  must  be 


WA-WA-WANDA.  41 

When  a  wigwam  once  is  finished  : 
"  Not  a  man  the  first  to  enter, 

Be  he  Brave,  or  be  he  Sachem, 

Lest,"  they  said,  "  mishap  befall  it; 

But  a  woman,  ere   'tis  furnished, 

That  its  owner  may  be  prosperous, 

That  a  blessing  come  upon  it." 

Then  they  waited  for  the  white  squaw 

Till  she  entered  ;  and  'twas  augured 

That  "  its  owner  would  be  prosperous, 

He  would  be  the  first  of  trappers," 
And  she  entered  first  the  cabin, 
Crossed  the  threshold — then  recrossed  it ; 
And  her  copper-colored  companions 
Sought  her  long  but  could  not  find  her  : 
Ar-'thusa-like  she  vanished, 
Arithusa-like,  subsided, — 
Like  her,  brighter  reappearing  ; 
Tor  as  yet,  to  AVa-Wa- Wanda 
She  was  as  a  star  unrisen. 
As  a  bud,  but  not  a  blossom. 

the  first  to  darken  the  door- way.  And  no  wigwam  was  hallowed,  except 
through  the  supposed  mysterious  influence  of  a  woman  it  was  thus  made 
hallowed.     Man  might  build  ;  woman  only  could  bless. 

fertility  of  soil  would  seem  to  have  been  included  in  the  blessiiig.  for 
that  portion  of  the  Patent  called  IMaile's  Hill,  has  produced  wheat  crops 
years  in  succession,  without  enriching— a  thing  unknown  outside  of  the 
"  )00  acres." 


42  WA-WA-WANDA. 

VIII. 
STUMP    IN    THE    WAT. 

Much  he  planned  and  much  he  studied, 
Wa-Wa-Wanda  planned  and  studied, 
And  the  ponderous  wheel  invented. 
All  to  crush  amain  the  apples, 
Make  the  best  of  cider  run  out 
For  the  good  of  all  the  people. 
Make  them  annually  love  each  other. 
So  it  be  the  year  for  bearing. 
Falling  into  fits  of  friendship, 
Suddenly  ending  as  beginning  ; 
Would  they  only  lasted  longer, 
And  each  one  was  as  a  strong  chain 
Binding  this  world-cask  together, 
That  it  ne'er  might  burst  its  hoops  off, 
That  it  ne'er  might  split  asunder  ' 

Only  one  there  was,  withstood  him, 
He,  Lagoochee,  god  of  wood-lands,* 

*  Lagoochee  seems  to  have  been  the  incarnation,  not  of  an  old,  but  a 
new  idea.  The  Indian  had  had  his  Good  Spirit  and  his  Evil  Spirit. 
But  this  was  a  sort  of  Betweenity— half  good,  half  evil  ;  hence,  both  loved 
and  hated.  And  his  undecided  color  symboled  well  his  undecided  char- 
acter. As  one  of  their  inferior  Divinities,  he  was  ever  on  hand;  were 
the  people  bent  on  well-doing  ?— he  was  on  hand  to  help  them  ;  on  evil- 
doing  ?  he  was  quite  as  ready.  Like  the  Nautlllus,  which  trims  its  sail  to 
every  breeze,  Lagoochee  would  sail  on  the  popular  tide,  which  ever  way 


WA-WA-WANDA.  43 

Once  of  wood-lands,  now  of  Orchards  : 
In  the  night-time,  when  the  choppers. 
Weary  with  their  work,  lay  dreaming. 
Sleeping  on  their  bison  blankets, 
On  their  bison  blankets  sleeping, 
~    Would  he  crawl  into  their  cabins, 
Gnaw  and  nick  their  axes'  edges, 
Moralizing  as  he  did  it  : 
"  White  man's  axe  is  death  to  nature, 
Death  to  nature's  charms,  his  touch  is  ; 
Every  blow  he  strikes,  I  feel  it." 

Then  he  breathed  upon  their  fingers, 
On  their  axes  with  his  frost-breath. 
Laughing  left  them  numb  and  brittle. 
Chuckling  to  himself  in  leaving  . 
"  On  the  morrow  when  they  wake  up, 
Let  them,  if  they  can,  invade  me  : 

Yesterday,  oaks  fell  before  them  ; 
If  to-morrow  they  can  cut  down 
Even  an  alder,  they  will  do  well." 

it  set.    It  is  shrewdly  suspected  the  white  skins  have  a  Divinity  of  the 
same  sort. 

Tne  Indians  left  him  behind  them  when  they  emigrated,  to  keep  watch 
over  their  burial  grounds  ;  domiciling  himself  among  the  new  comers, 
he  continued  his  i)rank.s.  Xot  content  with  th(^misphief  he  had  wrought 
his  Indian  patrons  while  living,  the  mischief  he  failed  to  work  them  then, 
he  made  good  when  dead  ;  this  was  in  leveling  the  tumuli,  instead  of  pre- 
serving them. 


44  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Him  our  Wa-Wa-Wanda  meeting 
In  the  middle  of  a  clearing, 
On  a  cold  December  morning, 
Wrestled  with  and  overcame  him. 
How  he  did  it,  do  you  ask  me  ? — 
As  the  warm  sun  strips  men's  coats  off, 
When  no  wind  that  blows  could  do  it : 
Oh,  it  is  not  harsh,  but  kiml  words, 
Dvercomes  our  foes  and  gains  them  I 

He  then,  o'er  Lagoochee  bending. 
In  his  ear  a  moment  whispered  : 
Quick  Lagoochee  rose,  and  smiling, 

Said,  "  Art  thou  that  Wa  Wa-Wanda  ?" 
Said,  "  All  this  champaign  I'll  give  thee, 
From  this  Beaver  Dam  to  yonder  ;* 
From  the  Salt  Licks  of  Ohio, 
To  the  Wabash  that  stops  nowhere — 
Thine  to  have  and  hold  forever  : 
Into  orchards  quickly  make  them. 
Though  unseen,  I'll  labor  with  thee  ; 

*  "How  much  land  will  you  give  me?"  asked  the  great  Pioneer.  "  From 
here  all  way  round  to  yonder,"  answered  the  chief  Rumbout,  waving 
his  arm  around  from  East  to  VTest.  Tradition  says  he  stood  upon  a 
bluff,  his  younger  chiefs  present ;  but  she  fails  to  tell  what  the  considera- 
tion was,  whether  two,  or  two  and  one  half  gallons  of  whisky. 

Etymology  of  the  word  :  "  all  way  round  to  yonder,"  when  Indianized 
signifies  "Wa-wayanda.  This  latter,  becoming  corrupted  into  Wa-Wa- 
Wanda  was  applied  personally  to  the  great  Pioneer. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  45 

Only  ■with  thy  brethren  share  them. 
Do  not  fall  out,  do  not  quarrel, 
As  ye  plant  them,  as  ye  prune  them. 
Lest  I  come  and  blight  the  blossoms ; 
By  this  signal  shall  ye  know  it — 
When  they  leave  off  bearing,  only 
Bearing  every  other  season." 


IX. 
MOUNTAIN    MAIDEN. 

Thus  the  song  of  cider  runneth. 
As  when  from  the  hill  of  Helicon, 
First  the  Hybla  stream  descended ; 
Then  it  was  that  Wa-Wa- Wanda, 
Owning  all  the  land  that  joined  him, 
As  some  wish  to  that  we  know  of. 
Standing. — as  upon  the  Andes 
Stands  the  condor,  keenly  scenting — 
Scenting  out  some  storm  to  Eastward, 
Flies  into  its  teeth  to  meet  it,* 

♦  Audubon  agrees  with  other  ornithologists  as  to  this  storm  loving  bird 
of  the  Andes.    Its  fondness  for  storms,  like  the  petrel,  prompts  it  to  be 


46  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Drives  it  backward  with  its  broad  wings — 
On  the  top  of  Sha-wan-gunk*  standing, 
And  his  arm  aloft  extending 
Northward,  Southward,  Eastward,  Westward, 
Called  upon  the  Four  Winds  loudly  : 
Blew  they — ^not  a  tempest  round  it — 
But  such  sea-mists  as  May  mornings 
Wrap  around  old  Crow  Nest's  summit,! 
And  descend  in  silver  fillets. 

Then  a  sign — and  as  he  made  it, 
With  mysterious  motions  made  it, 
Bose  the  mists — and  as  they  vanished. 
Like  to  flying  squadrons  vanished, 

much  on  the  lookout.  Our  Northeast  storms  spend  themselves  by  the 
time  they  reach  the  Cumberland  ;  but  the  instincts  ot  the  condor  teach  it 
when  a  storm  is  on  the  way,  discovering  which,  it  sets  off  to  meet  it. 

*  Pronounced  Shongum. 

•j-  That  immortalized  peak  of  the  Highlands  might  equally  well,  with 
Catskill,  have  set  for  the  picture  : 

"  Who  so  upon  thy  summit  standing  when, 
Like  bannered  hosts  around  the  mountain  side, 
Toung  April's  mists  at  mom  do  pitch  their  camj)^ 
Sees  clouds  on  clouds  convolved  around  thy  base. 
Himself  as  if  upon  a  lonely  Isle, 
Lashed  by  the  lurid  waves." — Pickering. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  47 

Suddenly  in  their  place  of  banquet, 
Rose  an  apple  tree  in  blossom  ; 
'Neath  it  rose  as  fair  a  maiden  ;* 
It,  the  first  of  "  early  bearei-s," 
She,  the  first  of  handsome  women. 

On  her  cheek,  the  rose  and  lily 
In  a  loving  contest  struggled, 
(In  her  bosom,  thoughts  as  tender,) 
Ending  only  by  dividing 
Half  and  half  the  realm  between  them  ; 
To  the  rose — the  cheek  and  ripe  lip. 
To  the  lily — hand  and  bosom. 

Blushed,  as  well  it  might,  the  lily. 
All  to  find  itself  outdone  there  ; 
Hung  its  head,  the  snow-white  lily. 
And  her  foot  so  light,  the  daisy 
Knew  not  when  she  trod  upon  it. 
And  her  eye  shone,  when  it  opened, 
As  the  eyelids  of  the  morning, 

♦  If  to  the  pagan  mind,  there  seemed  nothing  strange  a  Venus  should 
be  sea-born,  or  a  Phoenix  rise  from  its  own  ashes — why,  in  Indian  my- 
thology, should  it  be  deemed  a  thing  incredible,  a  woman  should  be 
evolved  from  mists  and  blossoms  ? 

True,  she  had  been  seen  and  known  personally,  as  in  the  matter  of  the 
wild  rose  and  the  bivouac  ;  but  like  Arethusa,  it  is  to  be  presumed  she 
dived  under  (to  avoid  contact  with  the  rough  settlers)  long  enough  to  be 
forgotten,  and  had  now,  like  her  antecedent,  reappeared,  and  was  wortliy 
to  be  crowned  their  May  Queen. 


48  WA-WA-WANDA. 

As  the  morning  when  it  dawneth, 
Throwing  wide  the  purple  curtains, 
As  it  looks  on  beds  of  violets, 
Makes  to  shine  the  dew  upon  them. 


X. 

GRAFTIN  G: 

OE,  wa-wa-wanda's  wedding. 

Beauty  may  not  go  unworshipped, 
Fairest  flowers  are  culled  tli^  soonest : 
Wa-Wa-Wanda  woos  and  weds  her, 
Weds  the  Maid  of  mists  and  mountains, 
(Hence  the  race  of  Cider-Makers) 
Saying,  "  Why  should  two  streams  sever 
That  together  could  flow  better  ?" 
Then  was  Hymen's  torch  re-lighted. 

And  it  shot  up  strong  and  steady. 
Strong  and  steady — ^flared  nor  flickered — 
But  burned  brightly,  blazing,  beaming  ;  . 
Like  a  fire-light  through  the  window 
Of  his  cabin,  blazed  it,  beamed  it; 


wa-\va-waj;da.  49 

And  the  sailor  boy  to  sea-ward, 

Saw  it,  thought  of  home  and  hastened, 

Bent  more  sail  and  home-ward  hastened. 

But  in  order  that  in  order 
All  be  done,  as  without  priest-craft 
Nothing  could  be — Fringillida, 
Lark  of  mornings,  lark  of  meadows, 
Said  "  I'll  read  the  service  for  you ;" 
Took  the  top-most  of  the  branches 
Of  the  apple  tree  for  an  altar  ; 
And  by  way  of  prelude  to  it, 
Shook  the  dew-drops  from  his  pinions. 
Shook  down  showers  of  blossoms  with  them  ; 
And  with  many  a  gush  of  music, 
Trilling  in  a  rich  soprano. 
He  performed  the  service  for  them, 
And  performed  it  better,  stronger. 
And  the  love-knot  staid  tied  longer 
Than  if  human  hands  had  tied  it, 
Since  their's  often  do  come  untied. 

Then  as  in  a  recitative. 

Thus  the  Priest-Lark  to  the  maiden  : 

(First  in  order  as  in  honor) 

'•  Takest  thou  this  man  to  husband  ?" 

And  the  maiden  blushed  her  answer. 

"  Learn  to  stoop, — if  thou  would'st  conquer, 
3 


50  WA-WA-WANDA. 

And  to  follow — if  thoud'st  lead  him  ; 
Patience,  thine — as  grace  and  beauty  : 
Many  daughters  have  done  wisely, 
See  that  thou  them  all  excellest." 

There  at,  Faleonida,  Eagle, 
From  his  eyrie  mounted  sun-ward 
In  a  round  of  such  gyrations 
As  put  out  the  eye  to  follow  ; 
Screaming  as  he  plied  his  pinions, 
Screamed  "  excelsior"  as  he  mounted. 

Charmed  at  hearing  strains  so  novel, 
Columbida,  Carrier-Pigeon, 
On  his  passage  paused  to  listen  ; 
And  the  Cuckoo,  Cuculida, 
Sang  "  I'll  cease  my  ways  unsocial,* 
And  my  own  nest  build  hereafter  : 
Meet,  a  mother  be  a  mother. 
And  her  fledgelings,  tbat  they  miss  not, 
Miss  the  warmth  of  brooding  winglets." 
Tuned  his  pipes,  the  Thrush  ;  and  Robin 
Sang  out  to  his  mate  more  sweetly. 
As  if  struck  with  sudden  passion. 

*  The  Cuckoo  leads  a  solitary  life.  It  should  have  been  named  the  her- 
mit bird.  It  does  not  dwell  with  its  mate.  When  it  flies,  it  flies  alone. 
It  lights  in  trees  around  human  habitations.  The  female  never  builds 
her  own  nest,  but  drops  her  eggs  in  that  of  some  other  bird,  leaving  them 
there  to  be  hatched  out  by  it.    [Vide  Chalmers'  Zoology.] 


WA-WA-WAJSTDA.  51 

Then  to  Wa-Wa-Wanda  turning, 
With  a  gush  that  carried  with  it 
Moods  of  warning  as  of  music  : 
"  Take  St  thou  to  wife,  this  woman  ? 
Honor,  thine — as  strength  and  courage  : 
It  was  from  man's  side  in  Eden, 
From  his  side,  was  woman  taken, 
That  his  equal  he  should  make  her  ; 
Near  his  heart,  that  he  should  love  her  ; 
"^^Neath  his  arm  that  he  protect  her  ; 
Not  above  it,  that  she  rule  not : 
Let  life's  rule  be,  love  and  duty  ; 
So  shall  life  to  you  be  pleasant, 
And  in  death  still  undivided. 

Be  her  sunlight,  be  his  moonlight ; 
Thus  between  you  halve  the  kingdom, 
And  your  twilight  shall  last  all  night : 
Earth-ward — hands  to  skill  and  labor, 
Heaven-ward — lookinor,  lonwiner,  soaring 
In  the  morning  as  ye  see  me, 
As  ye  see  me  every  morning." 

Then  with  words  of  solemn  import. 
Answered  back  Strigida,  Barn  Owl, 
Words  of  wisdom  and  of  warning, 
From  his  hollow  tree  in  Oaklands  ; 
Kolled  his  eye  tufts  as  he  koo  hoo'd 


52  WA-WA-WAJJDA. 

In  the  true  oracular  fashion, 
As  some  young  limbs  of  the  Law  do, 
Saying,  "  With  the  lark  dwells  wisdom, 
She  who  reared  her  seven  pillars  ; 
Spake  the  lark  so  well,  so  wisely, 
Thought  I,  'twas  myself  was  speaking, 
I  could  not  have  tied  it  better." 

Then,  in  one  grand  chorus  joining, 
Sylviadfe,  family  warblers, 
Merulidse,  Thrush  and  Buhl-Buhl ; 
Sang  the  Blackbird  from  the  marshes. 
Wild  of  note,  with  wing  of  scarlet  ; 
Sang  the  Cat-bird  from  the  hedge-row, 
Sang  Covida,  he  the  Magpie, 
And  the  Bluejay  from  the  cornfield  ; 
And  Sturnida,  the  Ox-pecker, 
Left  his  larvas  to  the  apis  ;* 
The  Wood-pecker  on  the  pepridge 
Sounded  forth  his  love-notes  louder  ;'|' 

*  The  Sturnida,  or  Buphaga,  may  often  be  seen  in  small  flocks  follow- 
ing horn  cattle  through  the  pasture.  They  not  unfrequently  light  upon 
the  creatures'  backs,  and  there  feed  on  the  maggot  worms  they  pull  out 
through  the  skin. 

■\  The  loud  rich  hollow  notes  which  the  wood-pecker  sounds  forth  with 
his  beak  upon  the  hollow  beach  tree ,  are  not  made  in  pecking  for  worms 
in  the  decayed  portions  of  it,  but  upon  the  solid  parts,  and  are  declared 
by  Wilson  to  be  his  love-notes  to  his  mate.  This  throws  in  the  shade  the 


W  A- W  A- WAND  A.  53 

Trocholida,  bird  of  humming, 
For  the  first  time  put  its  wings  up, 
Charmed  to  hear  of  bowers  more  honied 
Than  its  bower  of  honey-suckle. 

Tardigrada,  he  the  slothful, 
For  once  "hastened  ;  Castorida, 
The  dam-builder,  or  the  Beaver, 
"Waded  to  his  door  to  listen  ; 
Porcupine,  the  Hystracida 
Sent  a  quill  of  admiration  ; 

Sciurida,  the  Grey  Squirrel, 
Dropped  his  nut  to  hear  the  better ; 
And  his  antlers  dropped,  Cervida, 
Reckless  of  the  pack  to  heel-ward, 
Heedless  of  the  hounds  behind  him  ; 
For  the  hound  dog,  the  Canida, 
Ceased  his  yelping  on  the  hill-sids  ; 
And  the  cat  her  caterwauling, 
Of  the  family  Felidae, 

These  all  came  to  look  and  listen  ; 
From  their  branches,  from  their  burrows, 
Cfkme  to  celebrate  the  nuptials  ; 
Celebrated  till  the  sun  set, 
And  looked  out  the  star  of  evening. 

the  Indian  mode  of  courting,  whicli  is  to  lie  in  the  tall  grass  behind  the 
father's  wigwam,  and  whiatle  to  her. 


54:  wa-wa-waItoa. 

Thus  the  oratorio  ended, 
Giving  as  their  grand  finale  : 
As  the  waters  show  the  heavens — 
Mutually  reflect  each  other  ; 
Like  the  sun,  and  like  the  flower, 
Like  them — shone  ujdou  and  shining  ; 
As  that  sun  the  heavens  ascending, 
As  that  moon,  in  beauty  walking — 
Be  her  sunlight,  be  his  moonligbt. 

Thus  the  Priest-Lark  from  the  tree-top, 
Married  the  man  unto  the  maiden, 
To  the  maid  of  mists  and  mountains  ; 
And  he  called  her  "  Bunch  of  Blossoms."* 

*  Forever  rebuked  be  the  idea  politeness  is  not  natural  to  the  Indian 
breast,  save  when  revenge  has  swallowed  up  every  other  passion.  The 
circumstances,  as  the  legend  rnns,  to  which  sheowed  her  new  name,  were 
on  this  wise  :  When  it  became  necessary  Denn  should  settle,  or  lose  his 
Patent,  and  because  no  one  else  competent  would  dare  go,  he  persuaded 
Sarah ,  a  girl  of  only  sixteen  years ,  to  go  and  take  possession  in  his  name , 
promising  her  the  fee  of  one  hundred  acres  as  compensation. 

Mounted  on  horseback  like  some  Eastern  Xobless  on  high-bom  ele- 
phant, she  ascended  the  river  bank,  and  threaded  her  way,  guided  by  an 
Indian  and  followed  by  the  caravan,  but  not  without  a  fluttering  heart, 
and  ere  noon  was  several  miles  on  her  journey.  Suddenly  she  was 
brought  to  a  halt.  The  Indian,  who  had  on  foot,  led  her  horse  by  the 
bridle,  stopped.  Instantly  she  realized  her  situation.  She  felt  her  fate 
was  sealed.  Captivity,  secretion  in  the  wilderness,  far  from  home  and 
loved  ones  ;  torture,  violation  and  death — all  rose  in  fearful  array  before 
her  mind,  and  tears  robbed  her  of  utterance.  She  was  in  the  keeping  of 
her  feelings.    [See  Eager's  Orange  County.] 

Stooping  down,  and  as  if  reading  her  thoughts,  he  plucked  a  wild 


WA-WA-WANDA.  55 

What  is  that  beneath  their  window, 
Setting  all  the  air  in  motion  ? 
'Tis  the  wind-harp  of  -^olus, 
Trying  his  hand  at  serenading  : 

SERENADE. 

The  Dove  hath  sought  the  Falcon's  nest, 

The  Lamb,  the  Lion's  lair  ; 
The  bird  that's  weary  should  have  rest, 

But  wherefore  lights  it  here  ? 

The  Hind  the  hunter's  hut  invades — 

Nor  aught  of  danger  dreams  ; 
Why  leaves  the  Hind  her  peaceful       shades — 

Doth  leave  its  native  streams  ? 

flower  growing  in  their  path— and  silently  handing  it  up  to  her,  led  on 
again.  The  delicate  compliment  was  not  lost  upon  the  fair  maid  of 
"Wa-wayanda,  the  original  of  Bunch  of  Blossoms.  The  reaction  of 
feeling  brought  back  the  color  to  her  cheek.  Thus  it  is,  a  rough  ex- 
terior may  hide  a  smooth  heart  ;  a  hard  shell,  a  sweet  kernel. 

That  act,  simple  as  touching,  re-assured  her.  and  she  said  to  herself, 
"  Surely  as  these  wild  roses  grow  not  alone,  but  in  clusters,  so  do  virtues 
in  the  human  brea.st,  whatever  its  color.  Acts  of  gallantry  like  that, 
dwell  not  alone— and  I  am  safe — away  my  fears  !"  Ever  after  she  was 
called  "  Bunch  of  Blossoms" — or  "  she  of  the  wild  rose;"  and  often  as 
Jlay  returned,  would  she  mount  one  upon  her  breast  in  token  thereof. 

Music's  powers  are  alleged  to  soothe  the  savage.  Perhaps  beauty,  com- 
bining with  modesty  and  innocence,  may  have  had  a  not  unlike  effect  on 
li'T  Indian  footman.  Sarah  might  well  have  sat  for  the  portrait  drawn 
by  Addi.«on,  when  at  one  stroke  of  his  Inimitable  pencil,  the  canvass 
glowed  with  the  sentiment — "  The  beauty  of  her  person  chastised  by  the 
innocence  of  her  thoughts." 


56  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Though  dark  his  face,  his  heart  is  white, 
His  words  though  brief,  are  true  ; 

The  Red  mau's  hands,  so  strong  in  fight, 
Are  weak  when  friends  do  sue. 

On  wing  of  love,  when  comes  the  Dove, 

The  Falcon's  nest  to  share — 
Let  hands  of  skill  and  hearts  of  love, 

A  fitting  nest  prepare. 

The  nights  are  long,  the  dews  distill, 
The  Pale-Face's  cheek  is  tender  ; 

But  badger  skins  are  soft,  and  will 
From  the  night-damps  defend  her. 

And  thatched  with  these  a  wigwam,  reared. 
Awaits  the  Pale-face's  Davighter, 

"Who  comes  to  bless  the  humble  board 
Of  Red  Man  by  the  water. 

Our  scouts  came  in  at  noon,  and  bade 

For  coming  guest  prepare  ; 
And  ere  that  sun  went  down,  was  made 

A  wigwam  for  her  here. 

And  loving  hearts,  as  true  as  brave, 

And  willing  feet  and  hands, 
Are  her's  to  hold,  are  her's  to  have — 

To  fly  at  her  commands. 

Jeebi  benumb  the  hand  that  deals 

Not  gently  with  the  mild  face. 
When  comes  the  Dove  on  wing  of  love. 

To  dwell  among  our  wild  race  I 


WA-WA-WANDA.  67 


What  time  the  Thoru  went  forth  to  wed, 
The  Rose  became  his  bride  ; 

And  whea  the  Lily  tossed  her  head, 
Sweetly  the  Rose  replied  : 

"  The  Thorn  is  sharp  but  to  his  foes, 

The  Thorn  is  good  to  me  : 
I'll  give  my  sweetness,"  said  the  Rose, 

"So  he  my  guardian  be," 


As  the  reed-choked  stream  flows  slowly, 
Slowly  flows  among  the  tangle — 
Slowly  flowed  that  strain  JEolian  ; 
As  it  rushes  when  it  breaks  through. 
Laughs  and  leaps  when  once  it  'scapes  them- 
S\^ell  out  now  upon  the  night-air, 
Rise  and  swell  those  notes  --Eolian  ; 
Listen  to  its  diapason, 
On  the  night-breeze  rising,  swelling  : 

Ring,  ring,  ring — let  everything 

That  is  joyous,  bright  and  fair, 
Join  in  and  sing,  and  such  off'erings  bring, 

As  are  meet  for  a  bridal  pair  I 

A  wreath  for  the  bride  who  stands  at  his  side  ! 

A  wreath  to  adorn  her  hair  I 
A  half  blown  rose  best  befits  her  brows, 

A  snow-white  rose — set  it  there  I 


58  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Tf  pymbols  well  the  pure  thoughts  that  dwell    • 

In  that  bosom  v.hite  as  snow  : 
A  charnied  life  to  the  hopiug  wife — 

Bo  her  future  bright  as  now  ! 

Bright,  bright,  bright  I  from  morn  till  night, 

Let  no  shadow  cross  the  sky ! 
Let  no  brighter  sun  ever  shine  upon 

A  day  set  apart  to  joy  I 

Let  the  board  be  spread,  and  at  its  head. 

Sit  its  henceforth  rightful  lord  ! 
Let  the  heralds  aloud  proclaim  abroad, 

"  Come  ye  to  the  banquet  board  I" 

And  a  robe  and  a  ring,  and  a  welcoming, 

Bring  forth  for  each  bidden  guest 
That  comes  to  grace  the  time  and  place, 

And  let  each  prefer  his  quest : 

For  when  Royalty  weds,  to  the  tune  of  great  deeds 

Be  aye  the  honors  done  ; 
Let  the  largess  pour  in  a  golden  shower — 

For  a  Prince  ascends  the  throne  I 

Here's  a  health  to  the  Bride,  and  the  groom  at  her  side, 

To  her  noble  lord  beside  her  ! 
Around  let  the  glass  right  merrily  pass — 

While  we  pledge  two  in  one  in  Cider  ! 

And  the  apple-orchard  echoed. 
Echoed  back  those  notes  ^olian  ; 
And  the  Evening  held  his  breath  in, 


WA-WA-WANDA.  59 

Held  his  breath  to  hear  the  better, 
Hear  how  Wa-Wa-Wanda  wedded, 
Wooed  and  wedded  Bunch  of  Blossoms. 

Climbed  them  twain  life's  tree  together  ; 
Summer  changed  its  blows  to  apples, 
Threw  them  in  the  lap  of  Autumn  ; 
Ovid-like,  these  Wa-Wa-Wanda 
Metamorphosed  into  cider, 
All  for  love  of  the  dear  people  : 
Nectar,  did  the  Ancients  call  it, 
Only  Moderns  call  it  Cider, 


X  I. 

BUDDING      OUT. 

Flowers  are  lovely,  buds  are  more  so, 
Budded  soon  our  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 
And  they  named  it  Shooting  Cedar, 
Pah-ta-coo-chee,  Shooting  Cedar. 
How  he  grew  and  beat  his  father, 
(In  the  way  of  Cider  making,) 
Ploughed  more  furrows,  wider,  deeper. 
Set  out  orchards,  larger,  thriftier, 


60  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Made  his  cider  keep  sweet  longer — 
This  is  left  to  Bards  more  skilful, 
Such  as  share  the  rarer  favors 
Of  him  who  on  Pindus  sitteth, 
And  the  ears  of  the  immortals 
Dost  soothe  with  his  inspirations  ; 

Left  to  such  to  sing  his  greatness, 
Left  to  such  to  sing  the  sorrow 
Shooting  Cedar  did  inherit. 
In  his  bosom  bore  so  early, 
As  the  apple  bears  the  core-worm ; 
'Twas  to  see  the  more  than  folly 
Of  the  people  all  around  him  : 
Sour  grapes  had  their  fathers  planted. 
And  the  children,  ate  they  of  them. 
Set  on  edge  their  teeth,  the  children  : 
As  the  fathers,  so  the  children — 
Streams  may  not  out  rise  the  fountain. 

Grew  the  briar  and  the  bramble. 
Grew — yet  not  their  loves — but  hatreds  ; 
Low  the  fences,  lean  the  cattle, 
Swung  the  gates — but  not  on  hinges  ; 
Night  and  day  the  doors  stood  open  : 
Such  life's  sea,  when  Shooting  Cedar, 
Launched  his  bark  upon  its  waters. 

As  the  stirring  of  the  embers 


\VA-^VA-^VA^"1)A.  61 

Shows  if  yet  one  coal  remaineth, 
Which,  if  found,  and  wood  be  piled  on, 
Kindles,  brightens,  blazeth,  burneth — 
Shooting  Cedar  cast  about  him. 
Much  to  find  if  in  their  bosoms 
Lingered  one  redeeming  feeling. 

When  he  found  it  then  he  fanned  it ; 
And  they  rallied  at  his  stirring, 
Caught  him  in  their  arms,  exclaiming, 
"  We  were  dreaming — he  awaked  us, 
He  has  turned  our  nioht  to  mornino; ; 
Well  they  named  him  "  Shooting  Cedar  :" 
As  his  name  is — so  the  child  is — 
Heaven-ward  pointing — heaven-ward  leading 

Summers,  not  of  drought,  but  showers. 
Years  of  plenty — not  of  famine, 
Stalks  of  two  cars — not  of  one  ear — 
We  will  follow,  so  he  lead  us ; 
For  Fire-Water,  he  misled  us. 
Led  us  only  to  betray  us  ; 
For  as  Avarice  the  tomb  is. 
In  old  age  of  all  the  passions. 
With  the  white  man  in  old  age  is ; 
So  Fire- Water's  rod,  it  swallows 
Up  all  other  rods  beside  it : 
He  has  eaten  all  our  hearts  out, 


62  WA-WA-WANDA. 

He  has  swaHowed  up  our  substance  ; 
Shootiua:  Cedar  will  restore  it." 


XII. 
EARLY    TRAINIIl^G. 

As  it  strikes  its  roots,  the  Cedar, 
More  'tis  shaken,  deeper  strikes  them 
'Tween  the  rifted  rocks  forever — 
So  in  truth  and  virtue  rooted, 
Pah-ta-coo-chee,  Shooting  Cedar, 
Struck  his  "  tap-root"  deep,  and  deeper  ; 
As  his  name  was,  was  his  nature. 
He  an  evergreen  on  the  war-path, 
Downward  rooting,  upward  shooting  ; 
As  his  name  was,  was  his  nature, 
Pah-ta-coo-chee,  Shooting  Cedar. 

"  What  means  that  1"  asked  Pah-ta-coo-chee 
Of  his  mother,  sitting  near  her. 
As  a  simple  one  reeled  past  them  ; 
And  his  mother  straight  made  answer  : 
"  There  are  shorter  roads  to  ruin. 
Steeds  more  wild  than  bore  Mazeppa, 


WA-WA-WANDA.  63 

And  a  chasm  wider,  deeper  ; 
'Tis  the  door  way  of  her  dwelling 
On  whose  neck  the  reins  lie  loosely : 

As  the  ox  goes  to  the  slaughter, 
Goes  that  young  man  to  her  chamber  ; 
Join  thyself  not  to  his  chariot, 
Come  thou  not  into  their  secret : 
Bound  upon  the  back  of  Passion, 
With  Mazeppa  is  he  riding, 
Wildly  riding  to  his  ruin — 
Oh  the  spur  that  speeds  him  onward  ! 
And  the  hand  that  buckled  it  on  him, 
Which  Fire-Water  buckled  on  him  I" 

Then  she  warned  him  of  another 
Rock  so  many  split  on,  saying, 
"  Anger  is  a  fire  unholy. 
Often  times  it  burns  the  censer. 
Burns  the  censer  that  doth  hold  it : 
There  be  breasts  that  bear  it — bear  it 
As  the  flint  bears  fire — eschew  it. 
Every  word  in  kindness  spoken. 
Summons  to  our  side  an  angel ; 
Every  unkind  word — a  demon  : 
Oh,  beware,  my  child,  of  anger. 
For  it  companies  with  Fire-Water  ; 
Close  companions  you  will  find  them — 


64  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Hand  and  glove,  they  go  together." 

"  Mother,  what  is  that  low  knockino- 
At  my  heart's  door  every  night-fall, 
As  it  were  a  stranger  standing 
At  the  door-way  of  our  dwelling, 
Every  evening,  knocking,  knocking  ?" 

"  'Tis  the  Spirit  of  the  Highest 
Standeth  at  thy  heart's  door  knocking ; 
Bid  Him  enter,"  said  his  mother  : 
"  There's  a  night  that  is  unending, 
There's  a  morning  as  enduring  ; 
'Tis  to  warn  thee  of  that  darkness, 
'Tis  to  win  thee  to  that  brightness, 
That  the  Spirit  cometh,  knocking. 

'Twas  with  trumpet  loudly  sounding, 
Sound  all  other  sounds  exceeding. 
Was  the  Law  in  Horeb  given  ; 
While  the  people  stood  afar  off. 
And  their  hearts  within  them  failinof. 
As  in  Paradise  our  parents 
Sought  behind  the  trees  to  hide  them — 
Could  not  look  upon  that  Presence, 
Guilt  so  films  the  moral  vision  ; 
What  that  Law,  with  all  its  sanctions, 
Could  not  do  for  man's  redeeming, 
Came  the  Spirit  to  do  for  him, 


WA-WA-WAJS^DA.  65 

At  his  heart's  door  nightly  knocking. 

This,  my  child,  is  not  our  country  ; 
We  are  travelling  to  another, 
Pitching  our  tents  here  for  a  season  : 
In  the  kingdom  of  our  Father, 
Is  a  house  of  many  mansions  ; 
Many  little  seats  in  glory  ; 
There,  as  here,  wouldst  sit  beside  me  1 — - 
Nought  there  entereth  that  defileth  : 
Spits  no  poisonous  toad,  nor  serpent, 
'Mongst  the  turtle  doves,  its  venom ; 
All  is  pure  there-  all  is  holy. 

'Tis  the  Spirit  come  to  lead  thee 
To  that  house  of  many  mansions  ; 
Only  He  can  make  thee  holy  : 
Bid  Him  enter,  lest  thou  grieve  Him, 
And  He  come  no  more  each  evening, 
At  thy  heart's  door  knocking,  knocking." 

"What  is  that?"  he  interrupted, 
As  a  caterpillar  crept  up, 
And  he  raised  his  foot  to  crush  it : 
"  Hold,  my  child,"  cried  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 
"  Take  no  life  thou  canst  not  give  back. 
In  that  creature  howe'er  abject, 
See  an  emblem  of  thyself,  child  : 
When  the  Resurrection  cometh. 


66  W  A- W  A- WAND  4. 

Mortal  puts  on  tlie  immortal, 
And  corruption,  incorruption. 

Like  the  soul  and  its  companion, 
Low  in  dust  its  form  it  layeth, 
Only  to  put  on  another  ; 
Doffs  its  chrysalis  state,  to  flutter 
In  a  higher,  in  a  heavenlier  : 
Soon,  arrayed  in  colors  bordering 
On  the  gorgeous,  on  the  glorious. 
Thou  shalt,  from  its  own  exuvice, 
See  it  soar,  a  thing  of  beauty ; 
Blossom  of  the  empyrean, 
Floating  on  serial  currents, 
Stemless  blossom,  gaily  floating. 

Through  the  fall  of  our  first  father, 
Fell  the  human  race  in  ruin  ; 
When  life's  fountain  it  grew  bitter, 
Bitter  grew  the  streams  descending  ; 
To  raise  up  our  race  when  fallen. 
And  the  bitter  streams  to  sweeten. 
He,  the  Lord  of  Life,  descended  ; 
He  it  is,  gives  grace  and  glory, 
He  the  Life  and  Resurrection." 

"  Mother,  why  so  green  the  grasses, 
And  so  very  fair  the  flowers  ? 
Like  a  carpet  spread,  the  earth  is, 


WA;WA-WANDA.  67 

And  the  flowers  the  figures  of  it. 
And  yon  moon  so  like  a  laiwp  lit, 
From  the  ceiling  of  the  heavens, 
From  the  hall  of  heaven  hanging — 
Is  a  Queen,  you  say,  and  loves  him, 
Loves,  but  may  not  look  upon  him — 
On  the  Day -King  when  he  raceth." 

Bunch  of  Blossoms  straight  made  answer  : 
"  When  He  lighted  up  that  greater. 
And  that  lesser  light  you  speak  of, 
'Twas  to  give  light  to  his  children. 
In  the  day  time, — in  the  night  time, 
And  to  be  for  signs  and  seasons  : 
He  who  made  them,  can  unmake  them, 
He  will  blow  both  out  together — 
Blow  the  moon  out,  blow  the  sun  out ; 
When  to  sleep  has  gone  his  last  child, 
He  will  blow  them  out  together — 
Blow  the  moon  out,  blow  the  sun  out. 

Many  times  in  the  night-watches, 
Went  thy  lamp  out — and  thou  cried'st ; 
But  since  first  that  lamp  was  lighted, 
It  has  gone  on  shining,  shining — 
Never  has  it  flared  or  flickered  : 
Only  when  the  eclipse  came  on  it, 
(On  its  Maker  came  a  greater) 


68  WA-AVA-WANDA. 

Then  it  flickered,  waned  and  went  out, 
And  for  three  long  mortal  hours, 
Put  an  ebon  veil  upon  it. 
Meet  the  creature  put  on  mourning, 
When  eclipsed  was  the  Creator  I 

One  there  cometh,  from  whose  brightness 
Shall  the  clouds  of  darkness  vanish, 
From  whose  face,  as  if  affrighted, 
Flee  away  the  earth  and  heavens. 

'Tis  the  sun  that  paints  the  landscape, 
Colors  all  the  fields  and  forests  ; 
Turns  at  morn,  the  sea  to  silver, 
And  each  evening  into  crimson, 
'Back  to  crimson — deepest  crimson. 

When  he  sent  this  ball  revolving 
'Round  that  sun,  as  'round  its  centre. 
All  was  verdureless  and  barren, 
As  of  goodness  man  is  barren — 
Then  He  made  the  flowers  and  grasses, 
'  And  the  evening  and  the  morning 
Were  the  third  day.' 

Much  'twas  whispered. 
It  was  to  the  angels  given, 
When  the  earth  was  made,  to  carpet  it : 
Down  upon  this  errand,  came  they  ; 
"  What  shall  be  the  color  ?"  asked  one  ; 


\VA,-WA-WANDA.  69 

And  they  all  said,  "  Green  the  color — 
Green  the  ground,  whate'er  the  figure." 
Next,  "  The  pattern — what  shall  that  be  ?" 
One,  "  On  this  wise" — one,  "  On  that  wise — " 
No  two  could  alike  design  it : 
Company  was  expected  Friday, 
And  the  house,  it  must  be  ready ; 
So  in  haste  each  angel  wrought  it — 
After  its  own  fashion  wrought  it, 
Like  a  coat  of  many  colors. 

Hence,  my  child,  the  carpet  came  out. 
Though  the  ground  be  green,  the  figures 
Be  of  every  form  and  color  ; 
And  their  number  is  '  ten  thousand 
Times  ten  thousand  ;'  by  the  way-side 
You  may  see  them  yearly  blooming — 
Though  unlike,  in  beauty  blooming. 
In  the  gardens  of  the  rich  man, 
In  the  gardens  of  the  poor  man  ; 
But  most  sweetly  in  the  grave-yard, 
Whispering  there  of  hope  and  heaven. 

Not,  my  child,  with  loss  of  Eden, 
Came  the  loss  of  flowers — of  flowers  ; 
These  remain,  as  if  to  inspire  us 
"With  the  love  of  moral  beauty  : 
Are  they  not  the  smiles  the  angels 


10  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Left  behind  them  when  they  fled  us  V 
Then  in  tones  subdued,  she  whispered, 
Bent  her  head  down  low  and  whispered, 
"  Such  the  carpet  spread  our  Parents  ; 
But  they  soiled  it,  soon  they  soiled  it. 
Trod  with  wicked  feet  upon  it ; 
And  then  left  it  stained  and  spotted." 

Oft  the  querist  paused  and  pondered. 
Oft  the  querist  winked  and  wondered — 
Wondered  at  the  stories  told  him, 
Told  him  of  the  earth  and  heavens, 
Of  the  heaven  of  heavens,  told  him. 

Then  as  if  in  a  deep  study, 
Up  and  down  he  strode,  and  pausing, 
Eyed  and  felt  himself  all  over. 
Much  like  one  soliloquizing, 
And  as  did  our  father  Adam 
When  he  woke,  and  for  the  first  time. 
Felt  himself  and  gazed  around  him  ; 
Gazed  he  in  his  mother's  two  eyes, 
In  them  saw  himself  reflected, 
As  the  sun  does  in  the  dew-drop  : 
More  he  learned,  the  more  he  wondered. 

Bunch  of  Blossoms,  though  men  ranked  her 
As  the  apple  tree  'mong  the  wood-trees. 
Or  among  the  thorns — the  lily, 


WA-WA-WANDA.  71 

Shedding  odors  all  around  her  ; 

Shooting  Cedar  was  soon  set  up 

As  the  Roe-Buck  of  the  mountains, 

In  whose  foot-steps  sprang  the  thyme  up, 

Making  all  the  mountains  spicy. 

Fell  the  cascades  of  those  mountains 
On  his  youthful  ear  like  music  ; 
But  like  sweeter  music  to  liim, 
Were  the  counsels  that  she  gave  him. 
These,  as  greater  grew  the  distance, 
Like  a  chain  of  gold  they  bound  him  ; 
Gold  the  clasp,  whate'er  the  girdle. 

Such  the  questions  he  would  ask  her. 
Such  the  answers  she  would  make  him ; 
Stored  his  mind  with  knowledge  useful. 
Fired  his  heart  with  high  emotions. 
Trained  his  hand  to  high  endeavor ; 
Taught,  whatever  depth  had  ocean, 
There  was  in  his  soul — a  deeper  ; 
Pointed  out  to  him  the  future, 
Pointed  out  the  path  to  greatness. 
Path  to  greatness,  path  to  glory  ; 
(Path  of  shame  as  well  as  glory) 
Warned  him  of  the  snares  abounding, 
Of  the  moral  Maelstrom  warned  him. 
And  the  wine-cup,  in  which  yearly 


72  WA-WA-WANDA. 

More  were  drowned  than  in  the  ocean. 
^     Thus,  as  with  his  food,  he  drank  in, 
Early  drank  in  draughts  that  made  him 
Strong  in  love,  and  deeds,  of  virtue  ; 
Not  by  naturally  a  good  heart. 
But  the  conquest  of  a  bad  one  ; 
Made  him  worthy  of  his  father, 
Made  him  worthy  of  his  mother  : 
So,  to  graft  the  tree,  improves  it, 
In  its  branchino;  in  its  bearinor. 

As  the  bee  from  flower  to  flower 
Flies  in  quest  of  virgin  honey  ; 
Rests  not  till  its  stores  are  gathered. 
Stores  for  winter's  use  are  gathered — 
So,  in  quest  of  forage  mental, 
Pah-ta-coo-chee,  Shooting  Cedar, 
Left  off  questioning  his  mother — 
Put  his  questions  to  his  father, 

"  Whence  is  this  ?"  asked  Shooting  Cedar, 
Picking  up  a  piece  of  lava, 
And  a  pebble  and  a  boulder ; 
"  Whence  these  rents  the  rocks  discover. 
Yawning  at  us  deep  and  fearful — 
Whence  the  pebbles,  rents  and  boulders  ?' 
Wa-Wa- Wanda  could  not  answer : 


WA-\VA-WANDA.  73 

He  could  strip  the  birch,  its  bark  off, 
He  could  build  chemauns  and  rush  them, 
Whether  down  or  up,  the  rapids, 
Trap  the  otter,  keep  the  war-trail, 
Throw  the  lasso,  twang  the  bow-string — 
These,  as  well  as  make  sweet  cider  ; 
But  he  could  not  read  such  riddles. 
All  was  dark  to  Wa-Wa- Wanda. 
*  ,    Much  had  Bunch  of  Blossoms  taught  him, 
And  he'd  vowed  her  God  should  his,  be. 
And  her  people  be  his  people  ; 
Where  she  died,  that  there  would  he  die. 
And  with  her  would  he  be  buried  : 
"  Manitou,"  said  he,  "  forsake  me 
If  e'er  aught  but  death  divide  us  !" 
But  he  could  not  read  the  riddle — 
Could  not  answer  Shooting  Cedar. 

Thus,  though  brave  by  name  and  nature, 

He  was  groping  in  the  darkness. 

Like  to  men  benighted,  groping, 

Or  lost  children  in  the  forest. 

Near  their  home,  but  ignorant  of  it ; 

Horn  and  hoof,  could  bind  the  bison, 

But  he  could  not  read  the  riddle — 

Bead  the  lava,  rents,  and  boulders  ; 

On  his  future  rose  no  day-star — 
4 


74  WA-WA-WANDA. 

All  was  dark  to  Wa-Wa-Wanda, 
And  he  sought  some  one  to  lead  him. 
Then  they  found  where  it  was  written, 
Searched  and  found  where  it  was  written  : 

"  For  the  Highest  bowed  the  heavens 
And  came  down  ;  Ho  came  from  Tcman, 
And  asunder  drove  the  nations. 
When  they  heard  Him,  then  they  trembled, 
For  the  Highest  came  from  Paran, 
And  asunder  drove  the  nations. 
Then  he  made  the  clouds  his  chariot, 
And  for  steeds,  the  winds  He  harnessed  : 
And  He  rode  upon  a  cherub  ; 
Underneath  Him  was  thick  darkness — 
Clouds  and  darkness  round  about  Him  ; 
From  his  nostrils  went  a  smoke  up — 
Coals  of  fire  were  kindled  by  it. 

Moved  the  mountains  at  his  Presence, 
And  they  melted  down  before  Him  ; 
Burning  coals  his  breath  enkindled, 
Burning  coals  his  feet  they  scattered, 
The  perpetual  hills  bowed  lowly  : 
Are  His  ways  not  everlasting  ? 

Then  the  earth  He  stood  and  measured, 
And  the  tribes  of  men  upon  it ; 
As  the  small  dust  of  the  balance. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  75 

Seemed  the  creatures  on  his  foot-stool, 
Seemed  the  nations  fleein?  from  Him. 

o 

Nor  alone  the  earth — the  waters, 
When  they  saw  Him,  were  affrighted, 
And  were  lifted  up  together  ; 
As  the  forests,  so  the  waters — 
Clave  the  earth,  and  heaved  the  ocean, 
For  his  voice  was  on  the  waters. 

And  the  ships  at  anchor  riding, 
Slipped  their  cables,  and  to  sea-ward, 
Went  and  stood  far  out  to  sea-ward  ; 
But  He  shot  his  arrows  past  them, 
And  they  found  them  out,  his  arrows  ; 
And  the  ships  they  heavily  labored, 
Reeled  and  rocked  like  men  when  drunken  ; 
For  the  great  deep  like  a  caldron. 
Like  a  seething  caldron,  heaved  it. 

Then  as  if  their  crews  to  comfort. 
From  his  hiding  place,  the  Highest 
Looked  out  and  rebuked  the  tempest ; 
And  the  winds  and  waves  obeyed  Him, 
Crouclied  down  at  his  feet  and  whimpered. 
At  his  Eoyal  feet  they  whimpered. 

Then  were  his  repentings  kindled  ; 
And  He  held  his  mighty  breath  in, 
AVhen  He  saw  how  great  their  smallness, 


76  WA-WA-WANDA. 

How  affrighted  were  our  fathers. 
Ceased  they  then  to  melt,  the  mountains, 
And  the  rocks  to  rend  asunder, 
And  to  swell  and  heave,  the  ocean  ; 
Then  resumed  their  smiles,  the  valleys,. 
And  the  people  breathed  more  freely  ; 

And  He  bade  thorn  come  back  to  Him, 
Held  his  sceptre  out  toward  them, 
'  Held  the  rain-bow  out  as  -sceptre, 
Set  his  Urim  and  his  Thummim 
In  their  camp's  midst,  saying,  "  This  shall 
Be  the  symbol  of  my  Presence  ; 
I  have  bridged  the  gulph  between  us. 
Ye  shall  be  my  sons  and  daughters," 

"  Such,  my  son,"  the  father  added, 
Pressing  him  closer  to  his  bosom  — 
"Such  the  calm  when  storms  are  over, 
Such  the  bow  the  heavens  that  spanneth  ; 
For  as  lightning  and  as  thunder. 
Are  his  eye  and  voice,  to  mortals." 

Thus  the  pebble,  thus  the  boulder. 
And  the  lava — thus  they  came  there  ; 
For  the  sea  disclosed  its  secrets, 
And  the  earth  belched  up  its  bowels. 
Where  the  lava  cooled — it  rested ; 
And  the  boulder — where  the  waters. 


■watWA-wanda.  Y7 

Wearied,  rested — there  they  left  it, 
Asa  man  lays  down  his  burden, 
Lays  it  down  when  he  is  weary. 

'Twas  not  then,  in  twain  the  rocks  rent, 
Shuddered  not  then,  as  since,  Himmaleh,* 
Nor  our  cloud-capped  Chimborazo  : 
When  the  earth  shook  to  its  centre, 
As  'twas  shaken  ages  after — 
Then  it  was,  the  fissures  opened, 
Then  it  was,  were  formed  the  caverns ; 
Those,  as  'twere,  of  tears  the  channels. 
These,  in  which  its  groans  were  uttered  ; 
Tears  and  groans  that  well  became  it, 
When  its  Maker  bowed  Him  on  it, 
On  his  footstool  bowed  its  Maker  !" — 
But  again  I  am  east  my  story. 

♦  rronouced  nym-alyeh— Dr.  Scudder. 


78  WA-WA-WAI^DA. 

XIII. 
CHEISTEITING. 

When  the  day  came  him  to  christen, 
Came  the  day  the  child  to  christen, — 
Came  the  birds  to  serenade  him ; 
Birds  of  every  form  and  feather, 
From  no  flaming  red-flamingo, 
To  the  wren  of  dullest  color  ; 
Be  they  chatterers,  singers,  warblers. 
From  the  rice-fields  of  the  South  land, 
To  the  pine-plains  of  the  North  land  ; 
Tuneful  birds,  and  birds  not  tuneful. 

When  their  joint  refrain  was  ended. 
Turning  'round  to  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 
(Name  the  angels  said  she  went  by) 
Wa-Wa-Wanda  asked  her,  saying, 
"  Would  a  solo  please  thee  better  ?" 
Thereat,  woke  the  Chief  of  Songsters, 
Woke  the  Cat-bird,  bird  of  mocking  ; 
Such  her  powers  of  song,  and  varied, 
Basso,  alto,  tenor,  treble, — 
Saying,  "  I  will  sing  a  solo." 

Then  they  all  around  her  gathered, 
Saying,  "  Sing  to  us  a  solo, 


WA-WA- WANDA.  i  V 

Improvising  as  you  sing  it, 

That  the  day  may  be  remembered, 

That  the  child  we  came  to  christen, 

Long  may  keep  the  cider  running  ; 

Sing  a  song  of  by-gone  ages. 

When  the  Red  man,  and  he  only. 

Dwelt  here,  trapped  it,  fished  and  hunted  ; 

When  the  men,  were  men,  and  women,* 

Women,  and  they  thought  of  something 

Else  than  conquests  and  coquetting, 

Else  than  fashions,  fans  and  flirting." 

Whereupon  the  chief  of  songsters, — 
She  who  keeps  the  hedges  ringing. 
As  if  every  bird  were  singing;* 

*  otoutcr  hearts  than  Sarah's  have  quailed  before  a  condition  of  things 
less  I'ormidable,  and  made  them  weak  as  children.  To  settle  a  Patent  of 
unknown  wilderness  of  eighty  square  miles,  infested  by  serpents,  tenanted 
by  sa.agcs,  and  roamed  over  by  beasts  of  prey— by  the  intrepidity  and 
personal  daring  of  a  girl  of  sixteen— the  records  of  settling  the  world 
from  Nv'ah's  time  down,  cannot  produce  a  deliberate  attempt  like  it. 
Modern  lemale  heroi.^m  stands  abashed  in  the  presence,  nay,  at  the  bare 
contemplation  of  such  a  fearless  yet  dangerous  act.  Is  there  a  man  on 
the  Patenv  this  day,  would  send  out  an  orphan  girl  of  such  tender  age 
upon  a  likf. errand?  And  if  he  would,  where  is  the  little  maid  could 
summon  courage  for  the  enterprize,  and  keep  her  heart  whole  while  exe- 
cuting it?    [.S«e  Eager'8  Orange  County.] 

*  Lord  Brougham  in  his  recent  address  on  assuming  the  Chancellor- 
ship of  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  speaking  of  students  whose  learn- 
ing was  more  varied  than  profound,  likens  them  to  "  the  cat-bird  which 
R-arbles  all  the  notes  that  make  the  grove  vocal,  but  has  no  song  of  ita 
own." 


80  WA-WA-WANDA, 

While  in  circles  narrowing,  narrowing, 
Grouped  to  hear  her,  grouped  her  sisters- 
Smoothing  back  her  ruffled  plumage, 
Like  some  birds  of  diiFerent  feather, 
When  they  crowd  to  hear  some  story, 
In  the  season  of  sweet  eider — 
Improvised  to  them  a  solo. — 

TAWEE-NEE, 

"  Who  has  not  heard  of  Tawee-nee, 

The  far-famed  forest  flower  ? 
An  Indian  chieftain's  daughter,  she. 

Her  court — a  birchen  bower. 
Wider  than  was  the  Sachem's  realm, 

That  sov'reignty  of  her's  ; 
For  Whampoag  Oak  and  Pequod  Elm 

Were  'niong  her  worshippers. 

And  one  there  was — for  the  maiden  loved. 

As  maidens  ofttimes  do, 
Whose  suit  went  not  all  unapproved — 

None  drew  a  stronger  bow. 
Few  were  the  favors  she  bestowed, 

Yet  there  be  those  who  say 
His  moccasins  and  wampum  showed 

Traces  of  Tawee-nee. 

Oh,  Tawee-nee  was  young  and  fair, 

As  fair  as  early  dawn  ; 
Her  breath  was  like  the  morning  air, 

Her  step  was  like  the  fawn. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  81 

And  when  she  walked  those  green  aisles  wide, 

The  leaves  were  all  astir  ; 
The  wild  deer  gamboled  at  her  side — 

They  feared  no  shaft  from  her. 

Yet  'twas  no  ill-aimed  shaft  she" sped,* 

Nor  least,  those  from  her  eye  ; 
No  target  but  of  steel,  they  said, 

Could  e'er  those  shafts  defy  : 
Oft  when  the  hunting  season  came. 

The  Braves  returned  in  bands, 
Like  men  out-done  ;  they  found  the  game 

Slain  ready  to  their  hands. 

And  when,  all  in  the  wood-land  tongue. 

She  improvised  a  song, 
Brooks,  birds,  and  bees  joined  in  and  sung. 

The  cadence  to  prolong  : 
The  pine  trees  caught  it  with  their  breath, 

(Heard  nut  their  minstrelsies  ?) 
As  'twere  some  bride  of  Love  and  Death, 

Commingling  songs  and  sighs. 

Strange  tales  are  told  of  Tawee-nee, 

AVhen  Tawee-nee  was  born — 
Such  lofty  parentage  had  she  : 

Her  person  to  adorn, 

•  Whoever  her  artillery-bearer  was,  she  must  have  shot  some  arrows 
past  him  wliich  he  never  picked  up  ;  for  many  an  arrow-head  and  dart, 
— some  broken,  some  entire — has  the  writer  when  a  boy,  picked  up  on  the 
"  Neckfields,"  following  the  plougliman  as  he  turned  the  furrows.  This 
was  abouLtwo  miles  north  of  llunibout's  Kuuu — a  branch  of  the  Otter- 
kill — and  on  tlie  banks  of  which  stood  the  wigwam  of  the  Chief  whose 
name  it  bears  ;  Kumbout  being  one  of  the.  12  chiefs  to  whom  King 
Charles  covenanted  it  should  be  theirs  forever.  The  arrow-heads  and 
darts  were  made,  some  of  flint  stone,  some  of  feldspar. 


82  WA-WA-WANDA.  ' 

The  Grvaces  doffed  their  guise  and  gave  her; 

Their  jewels,  the  Virtues  lent ; 
Manitou,  seeing,  said,  "  I'll  have  her  " — 

And  off  with  him  she  went. 

And  ever  since,  when  brows  of  grace, 

And  angel  forms  we  see. 
We're  only  looking  on  the  face  * 

And  form  of  (awee-nee. 
Oh,  Tawee-nee  was  tall  and  straight  I 

Oh,  Tawee-nee  was  fair  ! 
As  fleet  as  were  the  hinds,  her  feet, 

Like  raven's  wing,  her  hair. 

A  legacy  she  left  her  heirs, 

That  tasseled  with  the  years  ; 
Kings  recognise  the  scarf  it  wears, 

And  count  the  golden  ears  : 
Men  call  it  Indian  Corn,  the  seed 

^he  in  departing  sowed  ; 
We  thank  the  Maiden  for  the  deed. 

And  send  it  all  abroad. 

Oh,  Tawee-nee  was  kind  and  true. 

As  kind  as  she  was  fair  : 
All  honor  to  the  Pale-Face  who 

May  with  our  Belle  compare  ! 
For  Tawee-nee  rose  with  the  sun, 

Her  mirror — Long- Walk  Lake  : 
Ye  who  would  shine  out  as  she  shone, 

V\  ith  her  your  toilet  make. 

Pemican,  niahng,  ewa-yea-kaw,  • 

Meda,  nosa,  kaw,  ugh  ; 
These  were  but  household  words  with  her, 

Ameek,  kaween,  kaneu  ; 


^VA-WA-WAXDA.  83 

Her  soul  companioned  with  the  storm, 

And  with  the  thunder  talked  ; 
And  many  a  night  a  mystic  form 

Went  with  her  as  she  walked — 

Wondering  if  to  the  hunting  grounds 

Beyond  that  westering  moon, 
There,  too,  would  come  the  white-man's  hounds  ; 
•  For  oft  while  yet  uugrown, 
She  heard  her  Prophet  father  say, 

Growing  taller  as  he  said  it — 
"  My  Race  is  fading  fast  away  ;" 

So  desolate  they  made  it. — 

'Tw^s  so  :  one  after  one,  they  died, 

The  Chieftain  and  his  Braves  ; 
Remained,  of  all  that  earldom  wide, 

What  might  suffice — for  graves. 
Liyino- — they  wore  the  ducal  crown. 
Dead — shall  they  be  forgot, 
As  when  some  ship  at  sea  goes  down 

With  naught  to  mark  the  spot  ? — 

Oft  as  we  hear  some  mighty  oak 

Fall  in  the  deep  wood  green, 
We'll  think  we  hear  the  sound,  the  shock, 

When  fell  those  war-whoop  men 
Her's  was  the  heraldry  of  stars, 

Emblazoning  fields  of  blue  ; 
Her  lore,  old  legends  of  the  wars, 

Her  trophies — ask  the  Soux  ! 

Daughters  of  a  more  favored  race, 

Burn  'neath  a  kindlier  star, 
Ye  have  their  lands  ;  have  then  the  grace 

Their  virtues,  too,  to  share  ; 


84 


WA-AVA-WANDA. 

For,  writ  in  characters  of  fire, 

In  heaven  behold  the  sign  ! 
Carthage  the  great,  is  not — nor  Tyre  ; 

Their  fate — it  may  be  thine  I" 

"  All  too  long,  and  all  too  doubtful," 
Cried  the  blackbird,  criticising  : 
"  Give,  oh  give  us,  Fringillida, 
Some  time  priest  and  sometime  songster  ; 
Give  a  song  of  joy  and  gladness, 
Such  as  doth  thy  name  betoken  : 
'Nough  we've  heard  of  squaws  and  wampum." 
Then  the  Lark,  to  please  his  sisters. 
But  himself  more,  sang  on  this  wise  : 

"  Soon  the  Equinox  Autumnal 
Will  be  here,  when  I  must  leave  you, 
For  the  land  of  the  banana  ; 
Up  the  Orient  already 
Mounts  the  Bull  in  Taurus,  casting 
Golden  dust  of  suns  around  him — 
'Tis  the  signal  of  my  going." 
Turning  then  to  Wa-Wa- Wanda, 
And  the  Infant  Archer  near  him. 
Sang  in  strains  both  blythe  and  plaintive — . 
Sang  the  Lark  from  out  the  tree-top  : 


WA-WA-WANDA.  85 


LAEKS     APPEA.L. 

"  In  the  Spring-time  wlien  the  blossoms 
^Beautify  the  bough, 
Fresh  as  hopes  in  youthful  bosoms 
That  with  ardor  glow  ; 

Seek  we  then  again  the  places 

Which  we  sought  of  yore  ; 
Happy  if  we  meet  the  faces 

Which  we  met  before.   - 

For  thy  cheer,  the  songs  we  sing  thee, 

From  hearts  glad  and  free  ; 
Warm,  then,  as  that  cheer  we  bring  thee, 

Let  our  welcome  be. 

'Tween  the  sunshine  and  the  shadow, 

List  our  roundelay ; 
From  the  lilies  in  the  meadow, 

From  the  green-wood  tree. 

Yet  not  all  is  joy  and  gladness. 

That  our  natures  know  ; 
Like  to  man's  our  lot ;  by  sadness 

Our's  is  chequered,  too  : 

Oft  on  wings  of  love  when  flying. 

Targets  we  are  made  ; 
But  this  morn,  my  mate  fell  dying, 

And  at  noon  was  dead. 

Oh,  as  ye  would  list  our  carol. 

Each  returning  Spring — 
Save  us  from  the  loaded  barrel, 

And  the  bow  and  string ! 


86  WA-WA-WANDA. 

"When  it  rains,  the  sheltering  bushes 

Hide  us  from  the  rain  ; 
When  it  clears,  with  sweeter  gushes 

We  come  forth  again. 

On  the  tallest  tree-top  singing, 

Listen  to  our  lay  ; 
In  the  morning  early,  singing — 

Singing  all  the  day". 

Many  a  load  of  human  sorrow. 

Many  a  hidden  pain  : 
Many  an  if  of  man's  to-morrow. 

Scatters  at  our  strain. 

But  our  songs,  like  flowers,  however, 

Do  not  aye  remain  : 
At  the  first  frost,  we  must  sever, 

But  we'll  meet  again. 

This  the  sign  of  our  returning, 

When,  at  sunset  hour, 
Drops  his  fold,  Orion,  burning 

In  his  western  bower. 

But  as  ye  would  greet  our  carol 

With  the  coming  Spring, 
Save  us  from  the  loaded  barrel,* 

And  the  bow  and  string." 

*  So  powerful  was  this  appeal  of  the  Lark,  it  is  said  that  the  Sporting 
Craft  united  with  the  people  at  large  in  petitioning  the  State  Sanhedrim, 
which  straightway  enacted  a  special  protection  law  for  all  birds  ;  so  they 
are  now  to  be  hunted,  killed,  and  caused  to  perish,  according  to  law — a 
remarkable  instance  of  harmony  in  council. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  87 

"  Katlier  sad  and  sentimental, 
For  a  song  of  joy  and  gladness," 
Cried  a  Bob-o'Link  from  a  maple  ; 
"  Too  much  of  the  egotistic — 
Should  not  sit  for  one's  own  picture  ; 
And  withal,  it  is  unnatural 
When  birds  talk  with  voices  human. 
True,  the  ass  of  old  once  tried  it, 
But  then  sky-larks  are  not  asses. 

Pleased  me  more,  the  cat-bird's  solo. 
Saving  that  it  was  no  solo  ; 
For  she  set  the  hedjies  ringinjj, 
As  'twere  every  bird  was  singing  ; 
Though  her  plumage  be  less  brilliant, 
Has  she  not  a  soul  inside  her  ? 
Though  they  call  her  bird  of  mocking, 
Of  a  royal  family  is  she — 
Of  the  family  Merulidas  : 
Should  have  heard  her  ere  we  judge  J  her, 
Ere  we  judged  her,  should  have  heard  her." 

"  Twaddle  !  twaddle  !  only  twaddle  1" 
Screamed  the  Sea-Gull ;  "  I  will  sing  you. 
That  the  day  may  be  remembered, 
That  the  child  we  came  to  christen, 
Long  may  keep  the  Cider  running  ; 
Sing  a  song  of  love  and  darinjr, 


WA-WA-WANDA. 

Love  most  faithful  when  most  tempted  ; 

So  you  do  not  criticise  me 

As  we  did  the  Robert  Lincoln, 

With  his  '  Boys — sabba-day — boys-boys, 

We-will-get-some-slippery-elm.' 

Critics — I  repudiate  them. 
As  the  lion,  the  hyena — 
With  this  dijfferenee  between  them  : 
Lion  kills  not,  save  when  hungered, 
And  he  eats  but  what  he  killeth  ; 
The  hyena,  he  less  noble, 
Takes  up  with  the  lion's  leavings, 
Or  exhumes  some  buried  body." 

Then  they  all  flew  at  the  raven 
Jointly  crying,  "  He,  a  critic  ! 
Hear  his  inharmonious  '  caw  !  caw  !' 
He  should  have  his  feathers  off  him. 
As  his  epaulets,  the  soldier. 
When  Ife  puts  dishonor  on  them," 
And  they  plucked  the  feathers  off  him  • 
Jeebi  changed  him  to  a  weasel ; 
Nightly  you  may  hear  him  prowling 
As  the  critic  prowleth,  preying 
Not  on  his,  but  other's  labors. 
All  on  this  wise,  then  he  broke  out : 


WA-WA-WANDA.  89 

SOTSTG      OF     THE      SEA-GULL. 

"The  swallow  hath  left  for  the  South  with  its  young, 
And  the  crimson  is  deepening  the  maples  amongj 
The  squirrel  hath  laid  its  last  nut  up  in  store, 
And  nightly  the  waters  plash  chill  on  the  shore. 

Bird  of  the  Icelands !  why  art  thou  not  here, 
As  thy  wont  was,  to  signal  the  change  of  the  year, 
With  thine  eye  full  of  fire,  and  thy  heart  full  of  glee  ? 
Thy  welcome  is  ready — I'm  waiting  for  thee. 

I  saw — was  it  thine  ?  a  bird  fondly  eying 

Its  image  reflected  far  down  in  the  bay ; 
And  the  grace  of  its  form,  and  its  fashion  of  flying. 

Claimed  kindred  with  thine,  thou  bold  bird  and  gay." 

"I  am  come,  I  am  come;  flew  I  not  at  thy  call? 
And  true  to  the  instincts  of  nature,  lo !  all 
Thy  feithered  companions,  or  grey  blue,  or  white. 
Have  gallantly  flocked  in  the  Avake  of  my  flight. 

Where  the  Polar  star  keepeth  its  watch  in  the  Xorth, 
From  the  land  of  the  glaciers  I  wandered  forth  ■ 
Midst  ice-bergs  md  regions  of  strawberry  snow,* 
Where  the  Polar  bear  feeds  on  the  starved  Esquimaux 

To  save  him  the  labor  of  feeding  on  him. 

Ob,  say  not,  I  sought  thee  not,  sorrowing  most, 
Xest  I  find  thee  not,  ere  the  night  close  on  me  dim  • 

For  what  were  life  to  me,  if  thee  1  had  lost  ?" 

*  Dr.  Kane,  in  his  Arctic  Voyages,  describes  entire  fields  of  snow  of 
strawberry,  orange,  and  other  colors,  with  his  hjTothesi.x  for  the  tame— 
th£  conditions  of  atmosphere,  formative  thereof,  4:c.  It  remains  for  Dr. 
Hays  to  contradict  or  affirm  it. 


90  WA-WA-WANDA.. 

"Then  rest,  weary  hirJ,  resr-!  thy  journey  was  long, 

The  crest  of  the  billow  thy  cradle  shall  be: 
Should  a  fear  for  our  fledglings  come  over  thee  strong, 
Know  that  lie  thoir  nest  watcheth,  who  watcheth  o'er  thee. 

The  winter  days  gone,  we  will  seek  them  anew. 
Our  plumage   renewed,  as  the  life  of  the  eagle; 

Oh,  who,  could  he  borrow  our  wings,  would  not  go, 
Not  start  at  thelirst  breath  of  Spring,  like  the  Sea-Gull  ? 

From  his  winter  of  soul,  its  frosts  and  its  chill ; 

And  giving,  it  may  be  at  parting,  a  tear 
Or  two  to  the  dear  ones  who  suifer  here  still, 

Seek  a  clime  far-away,  and  the  friends  who  are  there." 


Asked  the  wbip-poor-will,  instanter, 
"  Who  e'er  heard  of  Sea-Gulls  singing, 
Or  which  left  their  mates  behind  them, 
Or  their  young  when  emigrating  ? — 
Well  her  name  becomes  her  nature. 
I  in  turn,  a  song  will  sing  you, 
That  the  day  be  not  forgotten, 
That  the  child  we  came  to  christen, 
Long  may  keep  the  Cider  running; 

Sing  a  song  of  Sin  and  Sorrow, 
How  in  days  before  sweet  Cider 
Wrung  the  sceptre  from  Fire- Water, 
Men  to  beasthood  fast  were  turning. 
And  the  women  into  mourning  ; 
How  some  fathers  drank  their  farms  up, 


WA,-WA-WANDA.  91 

Taugtt  their  sons  their  sires  to  honor, 
And  to  break  her  heart,  their  mother : 

Old  men  striving,  young  men  striving  ; 
Those — to  put  the  fatal  shirt  off, 
These — as  hard  to  put  it  on  them  ; 
Shirt  of  Nessus,  that  ne'er  comes  off, 
But  it  brings  the  skin  off  with  it ; 
How  a  youth — hiui  one  of  manj' — 
Going  field-ward,  found  an  adder, 
(Cold,  and  stiff  and  lifeless,  lay  it,) 
Pitied,  and  put  in  his  bosom. 
In  his  bosom  rashly  put  it ; 
For  when  warmed  to  life,  it  stung  him. 

Stung  the  goblet,  all  who  quaffed  it, 
And  the  pit  enlarged  its  borders 
To  receive  them  at  their  coming  ; 
Still  it  biteth  as  a  serpent ; 
Still  it  stingeth  as  an  adder. 
Still  an  angel's  form  it  weareth. 
Still  with  syren  voice  it  singeth — 
Sweet  at  first,  but  ending  bitter. 
In  the  wine-cup  you  may  see  him  ; 
Though  its  brim  be  wreathed  with  flowers, 
You  may  see  him  lurking  in  it. 
See  him  lurking  at  the  bottom." 


92  WA-WA-WANDA. 

SONG   OF   THE    WHIPPOOKWILL 

"  The  night  hangs  dark  on  Otter-kill, 
Slow  drag  the  hours  and  dreary  ; 

For  whom  is  Ellen  waiting  still  ? 
Oh,  why  is  Ellen  weary  ? 

A  cloud  bespreads  the  heavens  o'er  head, 

Portending  coming  rain  ; 
A  darker  cloud  her  brow  doth  shade, 

Her  tears — a  present  rain. 

Oh,  why  those  tears  upon  her  cheek  ? 

That  cloud  upon  her  brow  ? 
Such  signs  an  aching  heart  bespeak, 

Bespeak  a  broken  vow. 

The  morning  conies  at  last,  and  streaks 
*       Anew  the  eastern  skies  ; 
It  plays  upon  the  mountain  peaks, 
But  not  in  Ellen's  eyes. 

Now  take  thy  lute,  if  power  it  hath 
To  charm  thee  more  ;  in  vain  : 

Thou  tread'st  henceforth  a  thorny  path — 
Those  tears  must  flow  amain. 

For  Love  no  more  reseeks  his  home 

At  each  returning  even  ; 
A  wandering  star  has  Love  become, 

And  thou  to  grief  art  given. 

Oh,  for  the  power  to  break  the  spell 
That  nightly  keeps  him  from  her  ! 

How  soon  should  light  those  eyes  refill — 
Her  Winter  turn  to  Summer  ! 


WA-WA-WANDA.  93 

Beside  thy  garden's  poppy  bed, 

The  niaudragora  grows  ; 
And  they  who  drink  its  juice,  'tis  said. 

Straightway  forget  their  woes  : 

G-o  drink  it  when  the  stars  are  red, 

Calling  upon  his  name  ; 
And  say  the  prayer  not  vainly  said 

When  Heaven  approves  the  claim. 

But  no — the  sleep  which  once  thou  knewost, 
Thou'll  know  no  more,  whate'er  thou  doest — 

Sleep  flies  a  bleeding  bosom  ; 
There's  hope,  if  but  a  root  remain, 

^Tho  tree  that  dies,  may  live  again — - 

'^    Again  may  bud  and  blossom  ; 

But  who  that's  seen  the  sun  decline 

In  Faith's  fair  firmament ; 
Like  idol  ravished  from  its  shrine, 

From  Love,  his  kingdom  rent — 

Ere  saw  that  sun  reseek  his  noon  ? 

That  idol,  shrine-ward  yearn  ? — • 
Who  ever  saw,  or  late,  or  soon, 

A  wandering  star  return  ? 

Ralph  tarries  where  the  wine  they  fill, 

Nor  reck,  if  late  or  early  : 
Therefore  sits  Ellen  waiting  still, 

For  this  is  Ellen  weary. 

Yon  church-yard  boasts  an  added  mound, 

Beside  it,  one  more  dreary  ; 
For  sleep  at  last  has  Ellen  found, 

No  more  is  Ellen  weary." 


94: 


WA-WA-M'ANDA, 

Suddenly  the  guests  departed — 
Went  the  birds  back  to  their  branches, 
Went  the  beasts  back  to  their  burrows  ; 
But  the  whip-poor-will  kept  singing, 
Sang  his  song  of  Sin  and  Sorrow  ; 
And  the  Evening  stayed  to  listen, 
'Round  it  wrapped  its  cloak,  and  listened. 

Came  his  notes  now  out  the  Orchard, 
Now  from  out  the  forest  came  they ; 
And  which  way  soe'er  they  came  from, 
Still  'twas  sad  and  solemn  music  ; 
And  unto  this  present  seems  it, 
If  not  lost,  a  lonely  spirit, 
Doomed  to  wander  in  the  darkness, 
Songs  of  Sin  and  Sorrow  singing, 
Singing  songs  of  Sin  and  Sorrow. 

Vanished  next  our  Wa-Wa-Wanda, 
With  him  vanished  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 
And  the  child  named  Shooting  Cedar  ; 
And  the  day  was  long  remembered. 
Long  the  child  they  named,  kept  growing, 
Long  he  kept  the  Cider  running. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  95 

XIV. 
WA-WA-WANDA'S  WIFE'S  WAYS. 

Sweet  of  breath  was  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 
With  the  dew  of  youth  upon  her  ; 
Zeohyr,  given  to  coquetting, 
Always  lingered  as  he  passed  her  ; 
Lingered  not  on  the  Spice-Islands, 
Lingered  not  by  Coromandel — 
Only  lingered  when  he  passed  her  : 
•'   Thus  the  bee,  its  way  when  winging, 
(So't  be  not  o'er  fields  of  Buckw'aeat, 
Fields  of  Buckwheat  in  full  blossom.) 
Turns  aside,  if  sweeter  odors 
From  some  jasmine  bower  enticeth — • 
Turns  aside  to  dally  with  them. 

Sweet  of  breath  was  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 
Sweet  in  Spring-time,  but  the  sweetest 
When,  by  angel  hand  directed, 
Came  she  through  the  open  casement 
Where  the  stricken  one  lay  dying. 
Sick  and  dying  in  her  chamber, 
From  whose  eye  earth's  green  was  fading. 
Oh,  how  oft  the  reed  we  lean  on. 
Does  but  pierce  us  through  with  sorrow  I — 


96  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Sacli  the  wound  of  which  she  languished. 

As  at  straws  do  catch  the  drowning, 
Caught  her  mother  at  the  fragrance, 
Fanned  the  daughter's  temples  with  it ; 
And  the  pulse,  fast  ebbing,  rallied. 
And  her  eye  a  moment  brightened, 
As  the  breath  of  Blosoms  blest  her. 
With  its  benediction  blest  her  ; 
Though  'twas  as  the  candle  flareth 
Up  a  moment — then  expire th  ; 
Or  the  drought-struck  maize  reviveth 
With  the  shower  too  late  in  coming. 

Now,  no  kin  was  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 
To  the  mother  or  the  Daughter. 
"  Qu'est  ce  que  cela  ?"  cried  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 
"  Are  there  not  the  ties  of  nature  ? 
All  are  kin  to  me  who  suffer  ; 
As  the  sunshine,  as  the  showers 
Nurse  the  grasses,  nurse  the  flowers. 
More  they  need  them,  more  they  nurse  them — 

Such  my  mission  :  woe  betide  me, 
When  the  human  plant  it  droopeth, 
If  I  breathe  my  balm  not  on  it, 
Bid  it  not  revive  and  flourish  I 
As  the  night-breeze  to  the  drooping, 
As  the  sunshine  when  it  cometh, 


WA-WA-WANDA.  97 

Is  to  them  that  set  in  darkness — 
Am  I  to  the  hearts  which  suffer, 
To  the  drooping — to  the  dying." 
Sweet  of  hreath  was  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 
Welcome  in  the  sick-room  ever  ;* 
But  she  could  not  stay  the  arrow, 
Though  she  breathed  her  sweetest  on  it 

Low  a  mother's  knee  was  bended, 
Went  up  prayers,  though  unavailing  ; 
All  a  mother's  love  was  lavished. 
Vainly  lavished,  though  'twas  quenchless  : 
Sweet  of  breath  was  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 
But  she  could  not  save  the  dying. 
Could  not  bribe  the  King  of  Terrors. 

What  she  had  to  give — she  gave  her ; 
It  was  but  a  moment's  respite. 
Yet  'twas  long  enough  to  take  her. 


*  The  passion  which  patients  in  the  last  stages  of  consumption  have 
for  flowers,  Ls  well  known.  They  seem  to  form  the  connecting  link  be- 
tween two  worlds— and  caught  at  by  those  passing  from  one  to  the  other. 
Climbing  in  at  the  window,  they  enter  the  chamber  of  the  sick  man; 
and  as  if  imbued  with  a  loving  spirit,  they  turn  backward  the  shadow  on 
thedial  plate,— re-open  the  almost  death  sealed  eye— rally  the  ebbing 
pulse  ;  and  when  no  longer  able  to  arrest  the  wasting  away  of  mortality, 
they  whisper  to-the  dying,  of  the  bowers  amaranthine. 

As  touching  the  Kesurrcction,  they  symbol  it  well.  It  was  in  a  gar- 
den (it  may  have  been  of  flowers)  where  wa.s  hewn  out  the  Sepulchre  of 
Him  who  said—*- 1  am  the  Resurrection  and  the  life." 

5 


98  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Back  on  memory's  track  to  take  her, 

To  the  days  when,  'winged  with  pleasure, 

Flew  the  hours  now  gone  for  ever. 

Child  she  was  again,  and  gamboled 

Through  the  fields  of  scented  clover, 

Smiled  again  with  her  companions, 

As  before  the  Angel  called  her. 

And  the  lily  stole  the  roses, 

Stole  them  from  her  cheek,  the  lily. 

Languished  into  life  the  daughter  ; 
In  the  narrow  house  appointed, 
There  they  laid  her,  what  was  of  her  : 
Shone  so  much  of  heaven  within  her, 
And  so  little  of  the  earthly — 
There  was  little  left  to  bury. 

Yearly  as  returned  the  season, 
Bunch  of  Blossoms,  and  her  virgins 
With  her,  robed  in  Vernal  beauty. 
Scented  all  her  narrow  dwelling. 
As  she  scented  first  her  chamber, 
When  she- soothed  but  could  not  save  her 
Sweet  of  breath  was  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 
With  the  dew  of  youth  still  on  her, 
Holy  was  on  earth  her  mission. 
But  the  mother,  such  no  longer, 
Nightly  sought  the  grave  to  weep  there ; 


WA-WA-WANDA.  99 


And  tte  stars  bent  down  to  listen, 
Weeping  as  they  bent  to  listen. 

mother's    lament 


•'  When  the  young  tree's  barked,  Jennie, 
Soon  again  it  heals  ; 
When  an  old  tree's  barked,  Jennie, 
What  is  there  avails  ? 


Yery  hard  to  heal,  Jennie, 
Is  an  old  tree's  wound  : 

I  am  as  an  old  tree,  Jennie, 
Mine  an  old  tree's  wound. 

in. 

Time  may  heal  in  youth,  Jennie, 
Time  may  heal  the  young  : 

I  could  better  bear  it,  Jennie, 
Were  I  young  and  strong. 

IV. 

Time's  a  healing  hand,  Jennie, 
For  hearts  in  their  prime  ; 

But  no  salve  for  mine,  Jennie, 
No  such  salve  hath  Time. 

V. 

Reft  was  I  before,  Jennie, 

Of  all  limbs  but  one  ; 
Thou  that  only  limb,  Jennie, 

And  that  limb  is  gone. 


100  WA-WA-\VANDA. 

VI. 

Tears  come  not  to  aid,  Jennie, 

As  they  used  to  do  ; 
With  thee  took'st  thou  them,  Jennie, 

That  they  cease  to  flow  ? 


Oh,  the  dearth  that  scorns,  Jennie, 

The  poor  aid  of  tears  ! 
Which  the  spirit  bears,  Jennie, 

Bears  through  dewless  years. 


Would  I  could  have  died,  Jennie, 

Died  in  place  of  thee  ; 
Sweeter  thus,  than  live,  Jennie, 

And  not  live  for  thee. 

IX. 

When  men  pass  my  door,  Jennie, 

Oft  1  hear  them  say 
'  Years — years  alone,  could  never 

Wear  her  thus  away.' 

X. 

Well  they  read  my  heart,  Jennie, 
This  lone  heart  of  mine. 

As  I  read  the  hectic,  Jennie, 
On  that  cheek  of  thine. 


Spring  came,  but  it  took,  Jennie, 

Not  away  thy  pain  ; 
Nor  could  Summer's  balm,  Jennie, 

Make  thee  well  again. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  101 


Balmy  were  the  flowers,  Jennie, 
Which  they  brought  to  thee; 

But  they  could  not  bring,  Jennie, 
Brinw  thee  back  to  me." 


Thus  bemoaned  herself,  the  Mother, 
And  the  stars  bent  down  to  listen  ; 
There  was  else,  nor  voice. nor  hearing. 
People  called  it  the  Consumption 
That  she  died  of;  but  'twas  rumored, 
'Twas  a  broken  heart  she  died  of: 

All  her  life  had  she  been  dying, 
All  her  wedded  life,  been  dying; 
She  a  wife  without  a  husband, 
For  her  husband  was  no  husband  : 
Strong  drink  came  and  stood  between  them  ; 
And  his  heart — once  hcr's,  her's  only — 
Stole  it  from  her,  stole  his  reason, 
Drove  the  manhood  from  his  nature  ; 
And  his  arm,  once  her  protector, 
(0  unnatural  put  of  power  I) 
Only  rose  as  her  oppressor. 

Yet  this  last  to  bear,  was -easier 
Than  the  cold  neglect  whif'h  followed  : 
Like  a  lily  left  to  languish 
In  the  garden  once  'twas  courted — 


102  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Bowed  her  head  upon  her  bosom, 
From  the  world  to  hide  her  sorrow. 

Oh,  could  it  ha'^e  been  but  anger, 
Could  her  love  have  turned  to  hatred. 
Better  could  her  heart  have  borne  it ; 
For  what  heart  that  once  has  worshipped 
At  the  shrine  of  some  dear  idol, 
So  that  heart  it  be  a  woman's — 
Could  without,  or  with,  a  struggle. 
Cast  that  darling  idol  from  it? 

Thus,  when  lucid  hours  pame  o'er  him, 
Who  shall  paint  the  sudden  rising 
Of  the  tide  of  hope  within  her  1 
But  which  tide,  like  that  of  ocean, 
Only  rose — to  ebb  the  lower  ! 
For  as  often  as  she  planted 
It,  the  rose,  beside  her  pillow, 
He  would  plant  his  thorn  beside  it. 
Then  retreating  to  her  chamber. 
She  bemoaned  herself  on  this  wise  : 

"  0  my  husband  !  0  my  husband  ! 
Soul  of  chivalry,  soul  of  honor — 
Once  of  chivalry,  once  of  honor — 
Changed,  how  changed  in  all  save  feature!" 
Then  upon  her  knee  low  bending. 
Sought  she  strength  to  bear  her  burden  : 


■WA-WA-WANDA.  103 

INVOCATION. 

"  God  of  mercy  !     God  of  Heaven  ! 

"What  was  from  my  life  withholden, 
Grant  that  to  my  death  be  given — 

Give,  oh,  give  me  back  my  husband! 

Ere  his  bark,  the  rock  it  dash      on, 

Down  the  fearful  rapids  gliding — 
What  shall  cure  his  monster  passion  ? 

Where  shall  I  my  head  be  hiding  ? 

Where,  but  in  Thy  faithful  bosom, 

In  this  hour  of  my  despair  ? 
Turn  not  from  the  blighted  blossom, 

Hear  a  more  than  widow's  prayer. 

Come  I  not  at  thine  own  calling  ? 

'  Heavy  laden,'  I,  and  'weary;' 
Thou  who  dried'st  her  tears  when  falling. 

Thou  who  heard'st  the  weeping  Mary — 

For  a  mortal,  hear  a  mortal, 

At  Thy  foot-stool  humbly  bending  ; 

Grant  repentance — grant  him  pardon, 
Hear,  oh,  hear  my  prayer  ascending  !" 

Then  unto  her  husband  turning, 
As  he  entered,  suddenly  sobered. 
And  on  this  wise  she  addressed  him : 

"  In  the  sad  and  silent  graveyard. 
Whitherward  my  feet  are  wending, 


104  WA-WA-WANDA. 

When  thou  comest  too  late  to  mourn  me  ; 

And  as  from  tlie  tomb,  the  voices 

Of  the  painful  past  are  pleading  ; 

If,  in  such  an  hour  coming, 

Thou  should'st  of  that  past  bethink  thee, 

When — as  to  the  Ark  its  window, 

Came  the  dove  of  old — so  to  it, 

To  the  window  of  this  bosom, 

Came  that  bird  of  hope,  soft  knocking — 

Thou  as  often  drovedst  it  from  me  ; 

If,  in  such  an  hour  relenting, 
If,  in  such  an  hour  repenting, 
If  in  such  an  hour  returning. 
To  thy  former  self  returning, 
Thou  regain  thy  hold  on  Heaven — 
Though  my  sun  haste  to  its  setting. 
And  no  hand  turn  back  the  shadow. 
Back  the  shadow  on  the  dial — 
Sweet  to  die,  if  that  but  save  thee! 

And  from  yonder  se-at  in  glory, 
I  will  come  on  angel  errand  ; 
In  thy  breast  thoughts  pure  and  holy, 
Will  I  whisper,  softly  whisper  ; 
As  the  loving  hind,  and  gentle, 
Gentle  roe,  will  still  be  near  thee.'' 

So  the  tender  Doe,  when  wounded. 


WA-WA-'WANDA.  105 

Turns  aside  from  its  companions, 
And  behind  tlie  friendlier  laurel, 
Hides  the  tear  that  will  be  streaming — 
Looks  upon  the  rankling  arrow, 
Looks  upon  the  hand  that  sent  it ! 

0 


XV. 
WA-WA-WAXDA'S  LASTWOKDS, 

Like  Pomona  when  her  vine-yards 
Put  the  grange  off  for  the  purple  ; 
Like  to  Ceres  when  she  called  them. 
Called  her  youths  and  maidens  round  her, 
When  the  fields  were  white  to  harvest — 
Saying,  '  There  are  sickles,  thrust  them 
In  the  grain  now  ripe  for  reaping  ;' 
Then  the  shouting  of  the  reapers, 
Barn-ward  as  their  sheaves  they  gathered, 
And  the  feasting  when  'twas  over. 
Of  the  young  men  and  the  maidens, 
While  the  old  men  sat  and  looked  on. 
Thinking  of  the  days  when  younger. 
They,  too,  shouted,  reaped  and  feasted  : 

So  our  Chief  of  Cider  Makers 
Called  his  son  unto  him,  saying, 


106  WA-WA-WANDA. 

"  Pleasant  hast  thou  been  unto  me, 
For  thy  love  was  passing  woman's  ; 
IJut  I  am  growing  old  and  feeble, 
And  must  leave  you  for  my  fathers  ; 
Worn  and  weary  I  am  growing, 
For  my  fathers  I  must  leave  you. 

Yearly  as  the  apples  ripen, 
If  it  be  the  year  for  bearing, 
Into  baskets  carefully  put  them, 
Into  cider  quickly  grind  them, 
As  your  father  did  before  you, 
'Mid  the  lowing  of  the  oxen, 
As  they  wheeled  the  loaded  wagons, 
Wheeled  them  to  the  mill  for  grinding  ; 
With  his  cider  rig  upon  him. 
With  the  sheaf  of  wheat  bound  'round  him, 
And  his  fingers  stained  with  berries ; 
'Round  his  head  the  sheaf  of  wheaten. 
And  the  stain  upon  his  fingers. 
And  the  feasting  when  'twas  over. 
When  the  cider  season  ended ; 
Oh,  it  was  enough  to  gladden 
All  who  looked  on,  all  who  labored  ! 

And  it  gladdened  him,  thy  father, 
As  the  venison  did  the  prophet ; 
And  he  hoped  to  see  the  day  come 


■\VA-WA-\VANDA.  107 

When  the  people,  for  his  cider, 
Would  abandon  their  Fire-Water 
Which  that  Ishmaelite  invented, 
As  if  to  destroy  the  people. 
What  I  started — do  thou  finish  ; 
Give  no  quarter  to  Fire-Water, 
Eat  not  salt  with  his  for  ever — 
Farewell !    I  must  to  my  fathers. 

Tester  night  I  h»d  a  vision  : 
I,   methought,  was  old  and  weary, 
I  was  sent  for  from  my  fathers  ; 
At  the  door-way  stood  the  Angel 
Ready  sandalled  to  go  with  me 
To  the  land  of  the  Forever. 

There  the  forests  all  are  orchards, 
And  the  orchards  ever  blossom. 
Always  blossoming,  always  bearing ; 
I  may  not  unheed  the  vision  : 
Every  Spring  must  have  its  Winter, 
Every  morning  have  its  evening  ; 
All  must  pay  the  debt  of  nature — 
*Tis  the  sunset  of  my  being.  ^ 

In  the  uncompleted  Circle* — 

*  The  spirit  of  improvement  has  entirely  swept  away  these  once  green 
and  revered  mouudii ;  and  the  ploughman,  as  he  drives  his  share  through 
their  consecrated  ajihes,  is  careless  of  the  sacred  nature  of  the  spot,  once 


108  WA-WA-M'ANDA. 

But  not  with  tobacco,  wampum, 
Bow  and  arrows  ;  nor  with  hatchet, 
Blanket,  pemican  and  water, 
As  my  father,  he  was  buried — 
But  with  symbols  of  the  purer, 
Purer  faith,  let  me  be  buried. 
Lay  me — yet  not  lay  me,  set  me. 
Set  me  standing,  facing  eastward, 
As  I  set  my  father's  father  ; 
Like  them,  I  would  see  the  sun  rise, 
See  that  morning  that  she  spake  of. 
See  that  morning — see  it  with  her. 

Flowers  will  still  spring  in  your  pathway. 
And  the  birds  sing  in  the  branches — 
They  will  bloom  for  Pah-ta-coo-chee, 

bedewed  with  the  scalding  tears  of  Indian  sorrow,  and  for  the  protection 
of  whicli  they  would  have  laid  down  their  lives. 

The  Tumuli  near  Sugar-Loaf  Mountain,  being  a  burial  ground  where 
only  Chiefs  and  warriors  were  interred,  embraces  but  thirty  graves. .  At 
the  time  of  the  Revolution,  each  one  was  still  green— mounds  or  pyra- 
mids of  earth,  heaped  up  like  the  covering  of  so  many  potato-holes. 

Around  each  tumulus,  there  were  pieces  of  split  wood,  set  in  the 
ground  so  close  as  almost  to  touch  each  other,  and  higher  than  a  man's 
head. —  Vide  Eager' s  Orange  County. 

The  spirit  of  improvement  would  seem  to  have  reached  the  domain  of 
Letter."?,  as  well :  See  Page  46  of  the  first  Court  of  Record  in  1706,  in  the 
first  Capital  punishment  case  at  Orange  town. 

"  Upon  ye  presentment  of  Coonradt  Hanson,  that  George  Jewell  kept 
a  dog  which  was  injurious  to  many  of  the  neighbors,  it  was  ordered  that 
the  said  Jewell  should  hang— said  dog." 


WA-WA-WANDA.  1 09 

They  will  sing  for  Shooting  Cedar  ; 
Wa-Wa-Wanda  will  not  see  them, 
Wa-Wa-Wanda  will  not  hear  them, 
Wa-Wa-Wanda  will  he  distant. 
Yet  will  not  his  eye  be  darkened. 
Yet  will  not  his  ear  be  heavy  : 
In  the  land  of  the  Forever, 
In  that  land  to  which  he  journeys. 
All  is  bloom,  and  all  is  music. 
Give  no  quarter  to  Fire- Water, 
Eat  not  salt  with  his  forever — 
Farewell  I  Pah-ta-coo-chee,  farewell  I" 

Bunch  of  Blossoms  joined  in,  adding, 
"  My  life's  sands  are  run — I  feel  it. 
Feel  the  silver  cord  is  loosening, 
Feel  the  golden  bowl  is  breaking; 
Ere  the  pitcher  it  be  broken, 
Come  and  take  thy  mother's  blessing.'' 

Then  he  knelt  him  down  beside  her, 
As  in  childhood  knelt  he  nightly ; 
And  his  mother  raised  her  right  hand, 
On  the  head  of  Shooting  Cedar, 
Gently  laid  it,  and  addressed  him  : 

"  Pah-ta-coo-chee,  Shooting  Cedar, 
Mourn  not  for  thy  mother's  leaving  ; 
He  who  careth  for  his  creatures. 


110  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Hears  the  ravens,  clothes  the  lilies, 
He  will  care  for  Shooting  Cedar, 
He  will  be  to  thee  a  Father. 

Not  as  mine — thy  mission  ended  : 
There  be  wounds  still  bleeding — stanch  them  ; 
There  are  more  who  hunger — feed  them  ; 
Prop  the  weak  and  turn  the  erring. 
Would'st  thou  save  thy  life  ? — then  lose  it  ; 
Keep  thy  blade,  the  rust  off? — use  it; 
And  the  cause  thou  knowest  not — seek  out ; 
Let  the  ear  that  hears  thee,  bless  thee  ; 
Be  thou  feet  unto  the  halting, 
Eyes  and  ears  to  those  who  have  none. 
Let  the  blessing  of  the  perishing, 
With  thy  Mother's  come  upon  thee 

Hark  !  it  is  the  angels  coming 
To  arrange  ray  coronation. 
To  disrobe  me — and  then  robe  me  : 
I  this  day  go  in  to  see  Him,* 

*  Sarah  Bull,  the  original  of  Bunch  of  Blossoms,  was  bom  April  6, 
1694 — died  April  21,  1796 — age  102  years  and  15  days.  She  lived  to  see, 
as  her  descendants,  12  children,  98  grandchildren,  212  great  grand-chil- 
dren; and  13  great  great  grand-children — in  all  335.  God,  m  blessing  her 
■with  many  children,  blest  her  with  his  ancient  and  early  blesiing  ; 
a  case  almost,  if  not  quite,  equalling  that  of  the  seventy-five  souls  that 
emigrated  Egyptward,  and  in  the  fourth  generation  came  back  three 
million  strong.  There  is  one  person  living  at  this  day  who  remembers 
at  the  age  of  six  years,  having  seen  Sarah,  then  hobbling  her  way  down 
the  hUl  of  life. 


WA-WA- WANDA.  Ill 

See  the  King  in  all  his  beauty — 
Farewell  I  Shooting  Cedar,  Farewell  I" 
As  the  swan's  last  note  is  sweetest, 
When  amid  the  reedy  rivers 
Pours  it  out  its  soul  in  dying  ; 
As  the  scented  shrub  smells  sweetest 
When  'tis  crushed — to  Shooting  Cedar 
Seemed  his  Mother's  words  at  parting  ; 
As  that  swan's  note,  as  that  herb's  scent, 
Seemed  his  Mother's  words  at  parting. 


XVI. 

WA-W A- WANDA'S    DEATH. 

Worn,  wan,  weak  was  Wa-Wa- Wanda, 
Far  off  seemed  to  him  the  Orchard  ; 
Dim  of  eye  was  Wa-Wa- Wanda, 
Could  not  see  the  maples  crimson, 
(Sign  that  cycles  the  Cider  Season  ;) 
Dull  of  ear  was  Wa-Wa- Wanda, 
Could  not  hear  the  apples  dropping  : 
And  tlio  Winters,  they  seemed  colder, 
And  he  clung  to  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 


112  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Closer  clung  as  it  grew  colder, 

As  in  youth  he  clung — clung  to  her. 

Oh,  'twas  pleasant,  thus  to  see  them 
Steep  life's  hill  to  them  had  risen, 
But  together  they  had  climbed  it. 
And  together  they  came  down  it ; 
At  its  foot  to  sleep  together. 
Sleep  together  at  the  bottom. 

Death,  as  if  for  once  relenting, 
Bent  his  bow,  and  then  unbent  it ; 
Went  and  stood  far  down  the  valley, 
Hid  himself  behind  his  shadow  : 
Was  it — he  might  aim  the  surer, 
He,  the  very  Chief  of  Archers, 
He  who  never  missed  his  target  ? — 
Only  when  of  old,  the  Preacher, 
Only  when  of  old,  the  Prophet, 
They  escaped  him — then  He  missed  it. 

Was  it  that  the  sight  unnerved  Him, 
Of  two  hearts  so  close  united, 
In  old  age,  so  close  united — 
That  the  arrow  would  not  steady  ? 
Could  not  one,  without  the  other  ? 
Which  so  ever  one  he  aimed  at. 
Came  the  other  right  between  them, 
Right  between  one  and  the  arrow. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  113 

All  at  once,  himself  bethinking 
Of  the  night  when  He  should  yield  Him, 
The  destroyer  be  destroyed  ; 
He  who  dug  the  graves  of  millions. 
In  his  turn  should  dig  Himself  one  ; 
Girding  then  his  armour  on  Him, 
Gently  laid  his  hand  upon  them, 
Gently  took  their  garments  off  them, 
Took  their  rags  and  wrinkles  off  them, 
Through  the  pearly  gates  dismissed  them. 

Gradually  as  Autumn  changes, 
Changes  all  the  fields  and  forests, 
Turns  their  green  to  richest  russet. 
With  its  wind-hand,  strips  their  leaves  off. 
Scatters  them  into  the  valleys. 
Into  every  nook  and  corner  ; 
And  so  gradually,  they  know  not 
Till  they  feel  the  winter  on  them. 
Moaning  through  their  naked  branches, 
Through  their  leafless  branches  moaning  ; 

As  the  sun  his  garments  gathers 
'Round  him  when  he  sinks  to  westward  ; 
As  a  shock  of  corn  is  garnered, 
In  its  season,  fully  ripened  ; 
'As  the  apple  drops  when  mellowed — 
So  their  faces  changed — and  went  they 
To  the  land  of  the  Forever. 


114  WA-WA-WANDA. 

XVII. 
WA-WA-WANDA'S  REQUIEM. 

Then  the  Orchards  bowed  obesiance, 
Sighing  throughout  all  its  borders, 
That  a  Prince  that  day  had  fallen  ; 
That  the  hand  which  thern  had  grafted 
Into  being — now  was  lifeless. 
And  it  cast  its  fruit — the  Pippin, 
Cast  its  fruit — the  Crab,  untimely. 
As  the  fig  doth,  when  the  Siroc 
Breathes  its  blastment  through  its  branches. 

But  as  if  less  sympathetic, 
Changed  the  whip-poor-will,  its  singing. 
Changed  its  notes  from  grief  to  gladness, 
Saying,  "  There  is  naught  can  perish, 
Death  is  nothins  but  the  castiufir 
Off  the  old  bark  for  a  new  one  : 
From  each  stock,  if  it  be  lopped  off, 
Shoots  another  tree  more  thrifty  ; 
Draws  its  life-sap  from  the  same  root 
That  bespread  with  frsit  the  old  tree  ; 
As  the  old  tree  in  the  young  tree — 
Wa-Wa  Wanda  is  but  lopped  off 
Lives  again  in  Shooting  Cedar." 


WA-WA-WAOT)A.  115 

Thus  the  whip-poor-will,  the  requiem, 
Requiem  sang  of  Wa-Wa-Wanda; 
Not  as  one  whose  glorious  beauty 
Had  become  a  fading  flower 
On  the  head  of  the  fat  valleys 
Of  such  as  old  wine  o'ercometh  ; 
But  as  one  whose  name  sufficeth 
To  adorn  his  country's  annals  ; 
As  in  days — so,  old  in  honors, 
With  the  dead — and  yet  immortal. 

Just  then,  from  its  cerements  bursting, 
Flew  a  butterfly,  and  lighted 
(The  Vanessa  Polochloros,) 
On  the  grave  of  Bunch  of  Blossoms. 
Such  the  fashion  of  its  flying, 
On  its  wing  of  velvet  flying  ; 
Such  its  poetry  of  motion — 
All  the  air  was  stirred  to  music, 
Which  reduced  to  human  measure, 
Fell  upon  the  ear  as  follows  : 

EEQUIEM   OF   BUNCH   OF   BLOSSOMS. 

"  Withered  flowers,  are  the  flowers  for  me 

They  never  can  wither  more  ; 
And  'tis  something,  at  least, 
When  the  worst  is  past. 

To  know  that  it  is  o'er. 


116  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Wherefore  we  praise  the  dead 

That  arc  already  dead, 
Rather  than  them — 
The  living,  who  claim 

Henceforth  the  tears  we  shed. 

Oh,  all  that  hath  bloom  or  breath, 
Whate'er  their  titles  be. 

Must  let  go  their  hold 

On  life,  we  are  told — 
So  runneth  the  King's  decree. 

Therefore  we  mourn  thee  not, 
Though  Zephyr,  as  he  goes 

On  his  rounds  at  eve, 

Be  heard  to  grieve 

When  he  misses  his  favorite  rose. 

What  though  no  vernal  morn 
Renew  thy  roseate  smile  ? — 

Thou  hast  left  the  scent 

Of  a  life  well  spent. 

That  shall  hallow  thy  funeral  pile. 

So  teach  man  how  to  die. 

Or  rather  how  to  live  ; 
That  when  his  leaves  fall, 
Like  fragrance  shall 

His  decaying  dust  survive." 


WA-AVA-WANDA.  117 

XVIII. 
LEAFIXG    OUT. 

As  the  waves  succeed  each  other, 
So  men  in  their  generations  ; 
Ere  the  parent  steps  life's  stage  off, 
Forward  steps  the  child  upon  it : 
Nature,  like  a  nurse  two-handed, 
With  one  hand  lays  out  the  mother, 
Rocks  the  infant  with  the  other. 

Though  the  name  of  Wa-\Va-Wanda 
Ceased,  and  with  it  Bunch  of  Blossoms, 
Still  they  lived  iu  Shooting  Cedar  ; 
All  the  courage  of  the  father, 
All  the  virtues  of  the  mother  : 
So  when  sinks  the  sun  to  westward, 
Lo  the  evening  star  appeareth  1 

As  the  lightning,  as  the  thunder. 
Tells  the  coming  of  the  storm-king. 
Ere  the  curtain's  rising  tells  it — 
So  our  Shooting  Cedar  shot  up. 
Could  not  hide  the  spirit  in  him — 
It  would  ftash  out,  it  would  break  out. 

Ere  ten  Winters  had  passed  o'er  him, 
lie  could  put  his  father's  shoes  on, 


118  WA-WA-WANDA. 

And  could  stand  right  straight  up  in  them  ; 
And  at  twelve  could  stride  as  he  could — 
Tread  right  in  his  father's  foot-steps. 
He  it  was,  invented  snow-shoes  ;* 
Faster  that  the  snow  it  deepened, 
Faster  could  he  travel  on  it, 
With  his  snow-shoes  rimmed  and  splinted. 
Rim  of  oak-tree,  splints  of  ash-tree. 
Lashed  with  thongs  to  toe  and  ankle, 
Thongs  of  eel-skin,  or  of  wood-chuck  ; 
Not  of  seal-skin,  not  of  horse-hair. 
But  of  eelskin,  or  of  wood-chuck. 

*  Before  the  country  was  cleared  up,  the  wmters  were  severer,  and 
the  snows  deeper.  Snow-shoes  were  even  a  necessity  then.  They  were 
shad -shaped,  about  three  and  a  half  feet  long,  and  one  wide  in  the  cen- 
tre, suddenly  rounding  before,  and  gradually  behind.  All  between  the 
outside  rim  was  woven  of  splints,  only  flat,  and  like  basket  work.  Lash- 
ing each  foot  to  one  of  these^  the  traveler  could  get  about,  and  dig  out  the 
cattle  when  snowed  under.  The  deeper  the  snow  was,  the  faster  could 
he  travel  on  it. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  119 

XIX. 

THE     CHASE. 

Long  the  lane  that  has  no  turning, 
Rare  the  race  without  disaster  ; 
Suns  may  rise,  yet  not  set,  cloudless, 
Brightest  morns  ere  noon  bo  clouded — 
Thus  it  chanced  with  Sliootiug  Cedar  : 

One  day  when  Aurora  opened 
Kot  as  wide  as  wont,  her  portals. 
And  the  Day-king,  Phaeton  driving, 
Kan  against  and  brake  the  gate-posts, 
Day  of  dash  and  dark  disaster  ; 
And  with  sun-dogs  set,  the  heavens 
Frowned  affronted,  scowled  and  scolded — ■ 
Orchard-ward  went  Shooting-Cedar. 

"  Evening  red  and  morning  grey. 
Sets  the  traveler  on  his  way  ; 
Evening  grey  and  morning  red, 
Brings  down  rain  upon  his  head  :" 

Thus — it  was  Lagoochee — warned  him, 
From  behind  a  hedge-row  warned  him  ; 
But  he  heeded  not  the  warning, 
Nor  the  heavens  gathering  blackness. 


120  WA-WA- WANDA. 

All  at  once  tlie  spirit  in  him, 
Blacker  grew  the  heaven  within  him  : 

"  What  is  that  ?"  he  roared  in  anger, 
"  That  has  barked  my  choicest  bearers, 
Gnawed  the  bark  thus  oif  my  young  trees, 
Not  my  old  trees,  but  my  young  trees  ? 

'Tis  the  Lepus,  (Leporidse) 
Brown  in  Autumn,  white  in  Winter  ;* 
'Tis  the  Lepus,  the  white  rabbit, 
Which  my  father,  over  and  over. 
Bade  me  guard  against  in  Winter ! 
By  the  life,  (were  he  but  living,) 
Of  my  father,  he  shall  suffer  ! 
I  will  sharpen  his  incisors  I 
I  will  set  his  teeth  on  edge  for  him, 
When  I  catch  the  creature  at  it  1" 

And  he  caught  the  creature  at  it. 
And  he  chased  him  out  the  orchard 
O  the  laddie  that  it  led  him  ! 
Through  the  bogs  and  bushes  led  him — 
Now  on  three  legs,  then  on  no  legs ! 

*  It  may  not  be  known  to  some  younger  readers,  the  caloric  is  inside 
of  the  furred  animals.  And  as  white  is  a  nonconductor  of  heat,  they 
are  better  protected  from  cold  by  their  fur  turning  white  as  winter  ap- 
proaches ;  a  provision  of  nature  that  wonderfully  illustrates  God's  care 
of  his  creatures.  Linen,  being  a  non-conductor  of  cold,  affords  protec- 
tion from  frost,  to  apples,  that  they  would  look  to  woolens  in  vam  for. 


jj-^-^-^S*", 


^,  =';^;;ij%'^ 


W  A- W  A- WANDA.  121 

Nowlie  Dears  him,  now  he  does  not, 
Runs  him  out  of  breath — and  temper, 
Eoaring,!' Varmint  I  O  you  varmint  I 
When  I  get  you— I  will  have  you  ! 
Once  up  with  you — I'll  be  up  with  you !" 

Fleet  of  foot  was  Shooting  Cedar, 
Shedding  yards  like  feathers  'hind  him ; 
Soon  he  grabbed  him — or  he  thought  to — 
Caught  the  tail, — but  not  its  owner ; 
Came  the  tail  off;  lightened  of  it, 
(Hence  the  race  of  short-tailed  rabbits) 
Fast  and  faster  ran  the  rabbit, 
And  a  brush-heap  put  between  them ; 
"Where't  next  dodged — mirable  dictu  ' 
Shooting  Cedar  lost  the  rabbit. 
Caught  a  cold  but  not  the  rabbit. 
Searching  for  it,  next  himself  lost ! 

What  is  that  fast  falling  round  him  ? 
Are  their  beds,  the  angels  shaking, 
And  these  be  the  feathers  falling  ? 
Or  the  Cygnets  of  the  Ganges, 
Cygnets  of  the  Ganges  falling  ? 
Or  the  thistle  downs  which  Autumn 
Sent  up,  and  arc  now  descending, 
As  it  were  in  showers  of  blossoms 
When  the  winds  are  playing  'mong  them  ? 
6 


122  WA-WA-WAOT)A. 

Or  is  it  the  bees  are  swarming, 

And  their  shards  all  turned  to  whiteness  ? — 

No — it  is  not  feathers  falling, 
Nor  the  thistle  downs,  nor  cygnets, 
Falling  thick  and  fast  around  him, 
Hiding  all  the  paths  and  land-marks, 
And  all  prospects,  save  the  lorn  one 
Of  a  night  spent  in  the  forest. 

'Tis  the  snow-flakes  which  he  seeth, 
'Tis  a  snow-storm  that  has  set  in  ; 
Through  the  gorges  of  the  mountains, 
Sweeps  it  down  in  all  its  fury. 
With  its  blinding  force  and  fury — 
Shooting  Cedar  must  abide  it. 
Round  and  round  he  looks — but  cannot 
Find  his  rabbit — or  his  way  back ; 
Gone  the  rabbit — gone  the  land-marks, 
Gone  is  all  save  heart  and  courage. 

Sweet  the  thoughts  of  home  come  o'er  him. 
Of  the  fire-light  in  his  cabin, 
And  the  friends  and  cheer  around  it : 
Shall  he  look  again  upon  them  ? 
And  he  heard  a  hum  of  voices 
Calling  to  him  through  the  distance. 
And  the  coldness  set  him  dreaming  : 
Was  he  freezing,  and  the  symptoms 


WA-WA-WAITDA.  123 

Of  his  freezing,  that,  strange  dreaming'? 

Suddenly  rousing,  he  his  numb  limbs 
Rubbed  and  chafed,  then  stamped  and  shouted, 
Like  one  out  of  sleep  awaking, 
Whom  some  thought,  like  wine,  inflameth ; 
Called  upon  his  father's  spirit. 
Thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket, 
Pulled  his  knife  out,  and  its  edge  felt, 
(Blade  with  '  Barlow'  brand  upon  it ;) 
Breathing  on  it,  that  it  snap  not, 
Since  frost  tries  the  metals'^emper, 
As  it  often  doth  its  owner's. 
Or  as  danger  does  his  powers. 
Tests  his  spirit,  tests  his  metal ; 

Then  he  cut  three  poles  and  sharped  them, 
Stuck  two  in  the  ground  ;  the  other, 
Going  forward  where  they  pointed, 
Stuck  it  as  he  did  the  first  two ; 
And  so  on,  each  alternating. 
Staked  he  out  a  bee-line  homeward- 
Going  backward  put  him  forward. 

Strong  his  love  of  wild  adventure  ; 
Like  a  coal,  it  in  his  bosom 
Kept  the  frost  out,  and  he  nursed  it. 
Gained  his  home,  but  not  the  rabbit  : 
Long  the  lane  that  has  no  turning. 


124:  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Rare  the  race  without  disaster. 

Yet  darnc  Nature  is  no  niggard  : 
Many  a  sun  eclipsed  has  risen, 
And  though  tempests  veiled  its  noon-hour, 
Gone  down  brightly  to  its  setting ; 
And,  until  the  seals  be  broken, 
Seers  alone  can  tell  the  future, 
Future  tell  of  Shooting  Cedar. 


XX. 

BEAKCHIKG    OUT, 

Fleet  of  foot  was  Shooting  Cedar  : 
He  could  overtake  his  shadow, 
And  he  taught  the  rest  to  do  it ; 
Not  by  going  Eastward  could  they, 
But  by  going  west,  as  he  did, 
And  the  sun,  till  Galileo, 
At  his  peril  blocked  his  wheels  up  ; 
Sent  the  earth  revolving  round  him. 
Strewing  his  pathway  with  the  golden, 
Golden  dust  of  suns,  he  strewed  it : 
Had  there  been  another  like  him, 


WA-WA-WA^'DA.  125 

Tliej  had  each  outrun  the  other. 

And  at  fourteen,  so  precocious 
Grew  the  youth,  and  tall  of  stature, 
Not  a  man  could  stand  before  him  ; 
Like  the  son  of  Kish,  he  taller 
Than  his  brethren  from  the  shoulder, 
From  his  shoulder  upward,  taller ; 
Luckily  his  hat,  that  father 
Bought  it  large  for  him  to  grow  to't. 
He  it  was,  first  taught  with  hazel — 
Hazel  switch  to  find  where  springs  were,*" 
By  its  drooping  when  he  passed  o'er, 
So  the  creatures  could  have  water 
Throughout  all  the  drought  of  August. 

He  could  tell,  too,  when  'twould  shower, 
By  the  sweating  in  the  meadow 
Of  the  stone  hid  in  the  grasses, 
Though  the  sun  be  shining  on  it ; 
By  the  cloud  at  first  no  bigger 
Than  a  man's  hand  in  the  South-West; 

•  This  theory,  however  moderns  view  it  askance,  was  credited  in  that 
day.  And  if  that  day  has  shaken  off  some  of  its  crudities,  so  has  it  also 
some  of  its  simplicities.  By  thrusting  the  eud  of  a  green  willow  or  hazel 
branch  into  the  ground,  it  was  supposed  to  droop,  if  in  the  vicinity  of 
water.  As  with  the  Patriarchs,  so  in  that  day,  water,  and  where,  and 
how  to  find  it,  was  the  grest  question.  A  well  for  which  "  they  atrore 
not,"  was  of  more  account  then  than  now. 


126  WA-WA-WAlirDA. 

And  the  cap  on  Butter  Ilill  top  ;* 
By  the  rustling  in  the  tree-tops, 
And  the  bees  all  hurrying  hive-ward, 
And  the  birds  all  to  their  bushes, 
And  the  beasts  all  to  their  burrows  ; 
By  the  squirrel,  more  nuts  gathering, 
He  could  tell  if  hard  the  Winter — 
Hard  the  Winter  which  was  coming. 

Keen  of  scent  was  Shooting  Cedar  : 
He  could  single  out  the  bee-trees, 
Tell  a  coon-tree  from  a  bee-tree  ; 
Not  a  runaway  swarm  could  pass  him,f 
That  he  could  not  find  their  quarters; 
By  the  Hoopoe's  aid  would  find  it,$ 

*  The  sign  still  holds  good  :  not  a  day  passes  that  a  cloud  caps  that 
Highland  Summit,  it  does  not  rain  before  sundown.  One  day  it  did 
seem  as  though  the  oracle  would  fail  :  in  the  morning  it  hung  out  its 
signal  as  usual — but  no  rain  fell.  Not  a  cloudlet  even  showed  itself  in 
the  sky,  and  the  sun  was  fast  descending.  But  just  as  his  lower  limb 
touched  the  horizon,  there  was  seen  a  small  cloud,  but  little  bigger  than 
a  mans  hand,  scudding  on  its  errand.  It  approached — down  fell  the 
pearly  drops — the  sun  set — the  oracle  was  saved  !    Altitude  1432  feet. 

t  Not  always  when  swarming,  would  the  dinging  and  banging  of  pans 
and  platters  prevent  the  bees  from  leaving  the  skip  prepared  for  them, 
even  though  it  have  been  well  washed  with  salt  and  water,  and  rubbed 
with  green  walnut  leaves.  If<they  did  not  like  their  new  home,  they 
would  vamose  to  parts  unknown,  despite  the  pans  and  platters. 

I  Wilson,  the  Ornitholigist,  while  a.ssigning  this  bird  to  Soutli  Africa, 
is  not  clear  it  is  confined  to  that  country.  "  The  honey-loving  natives," 
he  says,  "  use  the  Hoopoe  as  their  guide  to  the  bees'  quarters — following 
it  as  it  follows  the  bees."    [Vide  Chambers'  Zoology.] 


WA-WA-WAJSTD A.  1 2  i 

Tracking  that  bird  as  it  the  bees  tracked— 
Secret,  this,  he  told  to  no  one, 
Lest  they  fell   them,  lest  they  burn  them, 
"  Lest,"  he  said,  "  they  find  the  bee-trees, 
With  their  straw  remorseless  burn  the'm." 

Then  he  taught  them  all  the  secret — 
Getting  honey  without  killing, 
Killing  off  the  bees  which  made  it. 
Smothering  them  with  sulphurous  matches  ; 
Relic  of  the  barbarous  age.s,  \ 

When  the  State  imprisoned  the  debtor, 
All  to  help  him  pay  the  better  ; 
Giving  the  bee-trees  to  the  burning. 
And  the  bee-hives  to  the  sulphur  ; 

0  mysterious  fate  of  virtue — 
Man  should  thus  requite  their  labors  ! 
But  what  jewel  wore  she,  ever. 
That  with  more  than  Vandal  fingers, 
Sought  he  not  to  rob  her  of  it  ? — 
Shooting  Cedar  taught  them  better. 
Saved  the  bees  from  smelling  sulphur. 

These,  and  many  more  such  secrets, 
Secret  signs  he  taught  the  people, 
All  for  love  of  the  dear  people  ; 
Not  that  they  should  call  him  Prophet ; 
Yet  they  all  would  call  him  Prophet, 


128  WA-WA-M'ANDA. 

Would  consult  him  on  all  matters, 
Even  to" time  of  moon  for  '  planting,' 
And  the  month  and  moon  for  '  grafting' — 
Heeding  not,  hia  calling  only 
Was  to  grow,  and  make  Sweet  Cider 
For  the  use  of  all  the  people. 

Thus  he  grew  to  be  a  Prophet, 
Wise — but  not  enough  to  know  it ; 
And  they  said,  "Another  Delphos 
Is  this  homestead  where  he   dwelleth." 
Now  he  never  read  the  classics  ; 
And  'twas  well,  for  had  he  read  them. 
He  had  gone  on  wiser  growing — 
And  what  mother  could  have  stopped  him  ? 


XXI. 

BAEREN    BEANCHES 

But  with  all  his  craft  and  cunning. 
One  event  he  could  not  forecast, 
Shooting  Cedar  could  not  forecast. 
Though  his  horoscope  he  pointed, 
Though  his  tripod  oft  he  mounted, 


WA-WA-WANDA.  129 

Copious  draughts  of  cider  swallowed, 
All  to  aid  the  inspiration. 
As  the  Python  did  before  him, 

False  the  first-come  melon  blossom, 
Shades,  as  well  as  lights,  to  pictures  ; 
And,  alas !  like  all  things  human. 
Shooting  Cedar  had  one  failing  : 
Not  one  sou  cared  he  for  woman ; 
All  his  soul  was  in  his  cider, 
"Where  the  Queen  of  Egypt's  pearls  were. 
When  she  swallowed  them — inside  her. 

Only  once  more  in  his  sack's  mouth 
Was  that  silver  cup  discovered  ; 
Only  one  thing  more  he  failed  in. 
Failed  as  often  as  he  tried  it — 
When  he  took  to  making  verses  : 
Came  the  sport — but  not  the  verses, 
Sport — not  for  himself — but  others ; 
Once  his  harp,  self-strung,  awakened 
When  he  touched  it,  and  on  this  wise: 

I  M  p  K  o  M  p  T  u  . 

"  0  Power  !  thou  hast  a  name, 
A  name  thou  hast,  and  more, 
Canst  forge  the  captive's  chain. 
Or  loose  his  bonds  of  pain, 
And  open  the  prison  door — 
Long  ring  thy  blest  acclaim  I 


130  WA-WA-WANDA. 

I  had  a  dream  so  fine, 

As  musing  in  my  chair, 

I  watched  the  fire  decline  ; 
I  sat — a  Monarch  there  : 
All  lieads  hut  mine  were  bare, 

All  eyes  were  turned  to  mine. 

The  brands  came  tumbling  down, 
And  one  by  one  went  out ; 

They  went  out  with  a  frown — 
Winked  as  they  went,  methought, 
As  friends  in  adversity  flee, 

Whom  better  days  had  brought. 

The  chair-round  in  my  hand, 
A  royal  sceptre  seemed, 
As  I  dreamed,  as  I  dreamed  ; 
And  the  shout  of  a  King, 
That  painted,  painted  thing, 

Rang  in  my  ear  so  grand. 

I  sat  in  a  palace  hall  : 

A  warrant  for  the  death 
Of  one  who  had  fallen  beneaih — 
(Less  harming,  he,  that  harmed 

For  Want  is  a  strong  man  armed — ) 
Was  handed  me  withal  : 

I  read — a  moment  read — 

And  "  pardoned,"  was  the  word 
(I  wrote  it  with  my  sword) 
Which  speedily  restored 
To  a  starving  wife  her  lord. 

And  downed  that  night  my  bed. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  131 

But  what  is  life,  at  best, 

What — but  a  night  of  dreams  ? 

The  world — but  one  wide  loom 

AVhere  busy  Fancy  seems 

For  ever  weaving  some 
Some  many-colored  vest  ? 

Oh,  then  let  me  dream  on 

The  live  long,  live  long  night ! 

If  but  the  light  which  flashes 

Be  that  raked  from  the  ashes — 

The  ever  kindling  light 
Of  deeds  of  mercy  done  I" 

Here  his  harp,  its  mainstring  sundered, 
At  the  vasty  thought  it  sundered, 
And  it  never  could  be  mended  ; 
At  the  great  big  thought  it  sundered, 
And  it  never  could  be  mended. 

Thus,  nor  Prophet  he,  nor  Poet, 
Simply  he  a  Cider  Maker, 
As  his  father  was  before  him. 
Wishing  the  welfare  of  his  people, 
Feeling  all  the  ills  they  suffered  ; 
With  his  cider  sought  to  cure  them, 
Sought  to  cure  them  with  his  cider. 

Large  of  heart  was  Shooting  Cedar  : 
Bowels  of  compassion  had  he 
For  all  children  of  misfortune  ; 


132  WA-WA-WANDA. 

If  one  ran  a  tliorn  his  foot  in, 
With  his  lips  would  he  extract  it, 
With  his  cider-salve  annoint  it  : 
Medicine  man,  the  Sachems  called  him, 
Nalegak — the  Esquimaux. 


XXII. 
LATERALS. 

Grow  no  evergreens  up  single, 
But  in  couples,  if  not  clusters  : 
Shooting  Cedar  had  a  Sister. 
As  the  aspen  to  the  oak  is, 
So  to  him  was  Bough  of  Beauty  ; 
Came  no  cloud  'cross  his  horizon, 
That,  bow-like,  she  did  not  span  it. 

As  the  wall-flower,  unpretending. 
Closer  cleaves  in  time  of  flushing. 
Bough  of  Beauty,  wall-ward  hanging. 
Many  a  leaf  put  forth,  and  tendril. 
Clung  to  him  as  to  a  column, 
Round  and  round  his  heart  entwining  ; 
As  a  star  upon  his  bosom, 


WA-WA-WANDA.  133 

Kose  she  on  Lis  heart's  horizon, 
Ever  rising,  never  setting. 

As  around  the  Polar  circle, 
When  the  morning,  long  that  lingered. 
Rose,  and  went  on  rising,  shining — 
Rose  that  star  upon  his  bosom. 
Rose  and  shone  that  star  resplendent. 
As  a  jasper  stone  most  precious. 
Much  he  built  his  hopes  upon  it ; 
As  the  casket,  was  the  jewel — 
Bright  the  casket,  bright  the  jewel ; 
As  a  gallery  set  with  pictures, 
Beamed  the  brow  of  Bough  of  Beauty. 

Yet  unlike  that  Polar  shining. 
Shone  the  orb  of  Bough  of  Beauty  ; 
For  to  all  eyes  that  was  open, 
She,  to  Shooting  Cedar  only. 
As  the  violet,  in  the  grasses 
Seeks  to  hide  away  its  sweetness. 
Though  that  sweetness  oft  betray  it ; 
As  the  peach,  behind  the  foliage 
Shrinks,  to  shun  the  sun's  caresses, 
"While  its  blushing  but  betrays  it — 
So  would  Bough  of  Beauty  hide  her, 
Ilide  her  from  the  eyes  of  strangers, 
That  she  might  to  Shooting  Cedar 
Beam  the  brighter,  smell  the  sweeter. 


134  WA-WA- WANDA. 

XXIII 

A   DAY    IN   THE   OKCHARD. 

One  day  in  the  end  of  August, 
Month  when  Draco  or  the  Dragon, 
The  Meridian  bestriding — 
Elongates  himself  to  northward, 
Nine  degrees  and  twenty  northward  ; 
And  then  thirteen  more  to  westward, 
Takes  another  twist,  and  downward 
Slaps  his  tail  of  starry  spangles 
In  the  face  of  Ursa  Major — 

Walking  orchard-ward,  and  musing, 
"  What  means  this  ?"  asked  Shooting  Cedar, 
Muttering  to  himself,  he  asked  it, 
As  a  pippin  prematurely 
Dropped  upon  the  ground  beside  him. 
Then  the  Spirit  of  the  Orchard, 
Answer  made  to  Shooting  Cedar, 
Sad  and  solemn  was  its  answer ; 

"  In  that  apple  see  a  symbol 
Of  the  frequent  lot  of  mortals  : 
Grows  man's  gourd  up  in  the  morning, 
And,  or  ever  'tis  noon,  it  withers  ; 
At  its  root  the  worm  it  gnaweth. 


WA-WA-WAKDA.  135 

As  that  worm  at  its  core  gnaweth, 
At  his  heart's  core  gnaws  the  grave-worm  ; 
And  he  ripens  prematurely, 
Ground-ward  falls,  as  falls  the  apple. 

Gnawed  it  thus  when  Ellen  withered  ; 
In  her  youth  and  beauty  withered  ; 
At  whose  heart's  core,  gnawing,  gnawing, 
Hung  the  leaden  weight  of  sorrow — 
His  the  sinning,  hers  the  sorrow." 

Then  it  was,  that,  all  indignant, 
Shooting  Cedar  stamped  and  shouted, 
"  Ho,  ye  old  men  !  ho,  ye  young  men ! 
Who  for  profit  or  for  pleasure. 
Sow  the  seeds  of  sin  and  suffering. 
Seeds  of  sickness,  shame  and  sorrow — 
As  ye've  sowed,  so  shall  ye  reap  them, 
Thorns  and  thistles — ye  shall  reap  them  I" 

Then  he  held  up  to  their  faces, 
As  it  were  a  magic  mirror, 
In  which  each  himself  reflected, 
Each  one  saw  himself  reflected  ; 
Sought  themselves  to  fly,  but  could  not ; 
Turn  which  way  they  would,  before  them, 
Pale  and  languid  stared  those  faces ; 
Heard  from  bloodless  lips  reproaches. 
Clasped  the  clay-cold  hand  and  clammy. 


136 


WA-WA-WANDA. 


Felt  a  body  bound  about  them  ; 

And  which  way  soe'er  they  wandered, 

With  them  went  that  bloodless  body, 

With  them  sat,  and  walked,  and  feasted, 

Mingled  every  cup  they  tasted  ; 

And  a  voice  sepulchral  whispered. 

Ever  and  anon  that  whispered, 

"  As  your  sowing — so  your  reaping, 

Thorns  and  thistles  be  your  harvest !" 

'Twas  the  gnawing  in  his  bosom — 

Ralph's,  the  sorrow  now, — as  sinning. 

Fell  Remorse,  of  Guilt  begotten. 
How  with  scorpion  sting  it  lashes ! 
Conscience  !   0  thou  bold  accuser  ! 
Like  a  viper  at  the  vitals, 
How  thy  teeth  are  set  for  gnawing  ! 
How  thou  shakest  the  soul,  its  pillars  ! 
Making  all  the  house  to  tremble  I — 
'Scape  thee,  Ralph  !  if  yet  thou  mayest — 
Shooting  Cedar  on  thy  trail  is  ! 
When  they  heard  that,  they  repented. 
Threw  their  gains  down  and  repented. 

Thus,  as  bidden  of  his  mother. 
He  avenged  the  wronged,  the  injured. 
Propped  the  weak,  rebuked  the  erring. 
Once  again,  what  time  the  nation 


/WA-'WA-WAXDA.  137 

"Well  nigh  split  itself  to  flinders, 
"Well  nigh  went  out  of  existence, 
When  its  life  hung  in  the  balance, 
When  it  trembled  in  the  balance — 
Shooting  Cedar  flew  to  save  it, 
Leaped  into  the  scale  and  saved  it. 

Many  more  such  acts,  and  mighty, 
In  his  day  did  Shooting  Cedar ; 
Acts,  which,  were  each  one  a  pippin, 
And  each  pippin  ground  to  cider — 
Not  the  trees  of  all  the  forests 
Would  suffice  for  staves  for  barrels 
For  the  cider  running  from  them  : 
Distant  far,  the  day,  more  distant, 
Ere  it  chronicle  such  another. 
Such  a  Cedar,  tall  and  stately, 
Earthward  rooting,  heavenward  shooting — 
All  the  courage  of  the  father. 
All  the  virtues  of  the  mother." 


Here  the  Piper  paused,  regretting 
He  no  son  had  to  succeed  kim, 
Share  his  name  and  fame  and  fortune. 
Something,  too,  the  Piper  muttered 
Of  the  want  of  octaves  higher — 


138  WA-  W  A- WAND  A. 

Wlien  iu  grandeur  grew  his  subject, 
When  his  subject  grew  in  grandeur; 
Something,  too,  of  want  of  practice  ; 
Had  such  theme  his  powers  challenged 
In  his  palmier  days  now  bygone, 
He  had  struck  a  higher  key-note, 
He  had  blown  them  stronger,  better. 

Then  they  soothed  and  praised  the  Piper, 
Pledged  him  in  a  cup  of  cider. 
And  sat  down  to  hear  the  sequel. 
As  a  bark  when  heavily  laden. 
But  not  water-logged,  it  labors — 
But  when  lightened  of  its  burden, 
Bounds  it  lightly  o'er  the  waters  ; 
Or  as  bubbles  sail  the  current. 
Light  as  the  heart  that  leaps  to  see  them — 
So  the  Piper,  cheered  and  rested, 
Struck  up  to  a  merrier  measure, 
And  went  on  in  words  as  follows  : 


WA-WA-WANDA,  139 

XXIY. 

IKDIAI^    DIYINITY. 

"  Two  small  grey  eyes  had  Lagoochee, 
And  a  dapper  little  body 
Which  changed  color  with  the  season, 
Grey  in  Summer,  brown  in  Autumn  ; 
Often  from  behind  the  hemlocks, 
Oftener  from  behind  the  hedges. 
Might  you  spy  his  twinkling  two  eyes, 
Might  you  hear  his  gybes  and  giggle. 

Many  a  prank  he  played  the  people, 
Many  the  laddies  that  he  led  them  : 
Grew  the  corn  its  leaves  all  twisted  ? 
Han  it  more  to  stalk  than  seed-ears  ? 
Less  to  seed-ears  than  to  nubbins  ? 
Or  the  apples  rotted  early  ? 
Or  the  cider  soured  in  Summer  ? — 
They  would  lay  it  to  Lagoochee, 
He  so  full  of  fun  and  frolick. 

Saying,  "  'Tis  Lagoochee's  capers, 
He  has  got  a  grudge  against  us — 
See  his  foot-prints  in  the  cornfield, 
See  his  tooth-marks  in  the  Orchard, 
Hear  his  laugh  behind  the  hedges  :" 


140  WA-WA-WANDA, 

All  the  mishap?,  all  the  mischief, 
Would  they  credit  to  Lagoochee, 
With  his  face  of  fun  and  frolic — ■ 
Face  of  fuz,  as  fun  and  frolick. 

If  the  grafts  they  did  not  take  well, 
Or  some  apple-tree  ceased  its  bearing — 
•'  'Tis  Lagoochee,"  they  would  cry  out, 
"  He  is  paying  us  off  for  felling 
Of  his  forests,  and  not  leaving 
Here  and  there  some  trees  remaining , 
Or  we  did  not  heed  the  counsels 
That  he  gave  to  Wa-Wa-Wanda  : 

Said  he  not  that  if  we  fell  out, 
He  would  come  and  blight  the  blossoms  V* 
So  they  punished  not  Lagoochee, 
Punished  not  the  good  Lagoochee  ; 
For  despite  his  gybes  and  capers. 
Carried  he  a  heart  of  kindness — 
Heart  of  kindness  had  Lagoochee. 

Now  no  certain  shape  or  color. 
Shape  or  color  had  Lagoochee — 
Had  a  heart,  but  had  no  color  : 
If  pursued,  and  well  nigh  taken, 
Suddenly  would  the  urchin  vanish, 
Turn  himself  into  a  pine  knot, 
Or  a  bunch  of  moss,  it  may  be, 


WA-WA-WANDA..  141 

From  some  punky  log  protruding, 
Or  some  gnarled  oak  excrescent ; 
When  thus  hiding,  few  could  find  him, 
Such  as  saw  him,  knew  not  'twas  him  ; 
Save  his  two  eyes,  they  would  twinkle. 
Hide,  or  not  hide — twinkle,  twinkle. 

Oft  the  young  folks  homeward  wending. 
Through  the  opening,  the  oak  opening. 
At  the  witching  hour  of  twilight. 
At  the  solemn  hour  of  gloaming — 
If  they  saw  the  fire-flies  flashing. 
Or  some  old  log  phosphoresent, 
Firing  up  amid  the  darkness. 
They  would  cry  out,  "  'Tis  Lagoochee  ; 
Let  us  chase  the  mischief  out  him. 
Let  us  find  out  where  his  strength  is  ! 
Where  his  home  is,  where  his  strength  is  !" 

Once  the  children  chased  the  urchin. 
Through  the  piny  barrens  chased  him, 
When  he  ran  a  thorn  his  foot  in  ; 
Screaming  with  the  pain  that  plagued  him, 
Twisting  himself  into  contortions. 
Rolling  on  the  ground  in  anguish — 
All  their  mirth  was  turned  to  pity. 

Hearing  that  cry  of  anguish  ringing 
Through  the  distance  from  the  forest, 


142  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Shooting  Cedar  sprang  to  aid  him, 
Took  the  path  that  threads  the  pinery, 
And,  or  ever  the  sun  was  risen, 
He  was  at  his  side — had  drawn  it. 
Drawn  the  thorn,  the  urchin's  foot  out. 

As  the  plant  repays  its  culture  ; 
As  the  hand  that  smoothes  another's, 
Scatters  rose.s  in  its  own  path — 
So  Lagoochee,  he  rewarded 
Well  that  act  of  Shooting  Cedar  : 
"  Pah-ta-coo-chee  I"  said  Lagoochee, 
•'  Thou  art  worthy  of  thy  father, 
I  will  straight  requite  thy  kindness  : 
I  will  dull  no  more  thy  axe's  edge, 
I  will  stunt  no  more  thy  corn  crops, 
I  will  dwarf  no  more  thy  fruit  trees." 

Then  into  his  ear  he  whispered — 
What  was  whispered,  was  not  written  : 
As  the  morning  gilds  the  hill-tops. 
Flashed  that  secret's  light  across  him, 
'Cross  the  top  of  Shooting  Cedar. 
Much  the  young  folks  watched  and  wondered, 
When  they  saw  the  whisking,  whispering  ; 
"  Was  it,"  they  asked,  "  the  art  of  pruning, 
Or  preparing  the  pippin  pumace  ?" 
Close  he  locked  it  in  his  bosom, 


WA-WA-WAKDA.  143 

In  his  bosom  closely  locked  it ; 
Yet  it  leaked  out  :  is  its  record 
Not  well  written  in  the  mending 
Of  the  manners  of  the  people, 
Of  the  people's  minds  and  manners  ? 
In  the  greater  growth  of  Orchards  ? 
And  the  art  of — hear,  oh  hear  it  1 
Saving  cider  sweet  through  summer  1 
Thus,  as  from  one  single  seed  sown, 
Springs,  if  care  be  had,  a  harvest ; 
Or  from  but  one  nursery  planted, 
Comes  a  country  full  of  Orchards  ; 
Or  the  mirror,  it  be  shivered 
Into  fragments,  every  fragment 
Truthfully  repeats  the  image, 
Multiplies  adinfitiitum.; 
So  each  act  of  Shooting  Cedar, 
By  Lagoochee  reproduced  was. 
Reproduced  was  by  Lagoochee. 
Once  the  precious  box  be  broken, 
All  the  perfume  share  ;  who  pours  it — 
Hers,  as  his,  whose  head  'tis  poured  on ! 


144  WA-WA-WANDA. 

XXV. 
APPLE-PA  RIN  G: 

OR,    FRONTIER   FASmONS. 

Yearly  as  the  apples  mellowed, 
AVould  Lagoochee  call  together 
j!^11  the  young  men,  all  the  maidens, 
First  at  this  house,  then  at  that  house, 
To  the  Apple-Cut,  or  Paring* 
Poor  the  people,  lean  the  larder, 
When  such  forage  was  not  laid  in  : 
Sauce  for  roasted  rib,  nor  rabbit. 
Could  be  had  without  dried  apples. 

Jn  the  kitchens  of  their  castles, 
(Of  their  cedar-raftered  cabins,) 
Would  they  meet  of  Autumn  evenings  : 

*  To  lighten  the  burden,  it  was  the  custom  in  that  day,  of  life  in  the 
im^A,  when  apple-drying  came,  for  each  family  having  an  orchard,  to 
invite  their  neighbors  to  help  them  ;  connecting  innocent  amusements 
therewith,  to  make  the  task  pleasanter.  They  were  to  take  an  early  sup- 
per and  go,  carrying  their  own  candle.  They  were  to  assemble 
at  early  candle-light,  and  not  at  ten  o'clock,  in  order  to  a  sensation. 
What  would  a  bevy  of  modern  demoiselles  think,  assembled  on  invita- 
tion, to  have  the  hostess  sans  ceremanie  thrust  a  dull  case  knife,  and 
wooden  tray  at  each  one  as  they  entered,  and  her  lusty  sons  throw  down 
at  their  feet  a  two  bushel  basket  of  apples  to  be  peeled  ? 


•  TVA-WA-WANDA.  146 

"  "Will  you  pare  ?  or  will  you  quarter  ? 

Will  you  core  1  or  will  you  string  them  ?" 

Would  the  hostess  ask  of  each  one. 

Then  in  circles  would  they  sit  down  ; 

If  a  fair  one  without  breakinnf, 

Threw  her  paring  a-la-garland 

'Kound  the  neck  of — but  no  matter 

Which  of  all  the  young  men  present — 

Then  thej  clapped  their  hands  and  shouted, 

"  She  shall  have  him  for  a  partner 
In  the  dance,  when  comes  the  danciils : 
She  shall  have  him  for  her  lover, 
He  shall  from  the  wolf  protect  her. 
When,  for  home,  she  leaves  the  cabin." 

Thus  in  turn  each  frontier  maiden, 
Nightly  'gainst  the  wolf  her  shield  had ; 
For  they  all  were  skilled  at  throwing 
Spells,  or  parings,  'round  the  young  men  ; 
Saving — as  with  heir-loom  treasures* 
Some  are  better  kept  than  others — 
So,  thejairer  was  the  maiden, 

*  A  descendant  of  the  First  Settler  has  among  his  heirloom  treasures, 
two  which  he  counts  his  crown-jewels,  to  wit ;  one  of  the  foundation 
stones  of  the  first  rule  cabin,  and  one  of  the  few  silver  tea-spoons  used 
on  the  occasion  of  the  first  supper  eaten  in  it.  The  stone  is  a  hornblende 
— fourteen  parti  lime,  nineteen  magnesia,  twelve  allumiua,  forty -eight 
Sillica. 


146  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Better  was  the  wolf  kept  from  her  ; 
Weaker  that  her  heart  was — stronger 
Was  the  arm  that  was  around  her  ; 
But  as  each  one,  fair  &?,fat,  was, 
PFo^grew  nightly  lean  and  leaner. 

Much  Lagoochee  it  delighted 
(Always  full  of  fun  and  frolic) 
Thus  to  see  them  aid  each  other  ; 
But  'twas  for  the  poor  among  them, 
For  the  poor  his  heart  beat  warmest : 
Often  would  he  charge  them,  saying, 
"  Those  that  grow  upon  the  top-most, 
Topmost  boughs,  or  outer  branches — 
Leave  them  for  the  poor  among  you  ; 
Let  them  glean  them,  for  they  need  them. 

Farthest  way  round,  surest  way  home  : 
When  the  harvest  moon  was  rising, 
Oft  they  lingered,  oft  they  loitered, 
Loitered  in  the  tender  star-light ; 
He  was  lonely,  she  was  lovely  ; 
He  was  brave,  and  she  was  beauteous  ; 
And  the  wolf,  he  might  be  prowling — 
Woman  needed  man's  protection. 

As  the  ocean  mounts  to  meet  it, 
When  the  moon  is  bending  over — 
Heaved  the  maiden's  bosom  strangely, 


WA-WA-WANDA.  147 

At  the  logic  of  the  lover. 

As  some  new  song  set  to  music, 

If  it  please  us,  we  encore  it ; 

So  the  Fair  one — but  by  words  less 

Than  by  looks — would  say,  "  Repeat  it." 

As  the  minstrel,  when  his  music 

Pleases,  lengthens  out  his  chorus  ; 

So  the  lover,  what  was  music 

To  his  listener,  kept  repeating, 

Till  the  music-loving  Fair  One 

Learned  to  sing  as  well  as  he  could. 

Ye  who  have  seen  by  night  two  dew-drops 
On  the  Cactus  Grandiflorus, 
Or  Mimosa  Nilotica, 
Shine  and  swell,  then  run  together, 
Undividable  thenceforward  ; 
Ye,  who  have  seen  two  hearts  dissolving 
One-ward  in  the  tender  star-light : 
Ye  who  have  been  to  Apple  Parings, 
Seen  the  pairing  of  the  parers 
When  the  Apple-Cut  was  over  ; 
Ye  have  seen  it — ye  have  seen  it, 
Seen  that  moon,  her  silver  arrows 
Shooting,  as  they  journeyed  homeward. 
Round  them  shooting,  past  them,  through  them — 
Hoard  the  music,  heard  tbc  chorus. 


148  W  A- W  A- WAND  A. 

Many  a  secret,  would  slie  tell  it, 
Could  the  Moon  tell  of  night-walking  ; 
Young  men  vowing,  maidens  listening, 
And  the  hap  that  comes  of  vowing, 
And  the  graver  hap  of  listening — 
All  by  way  of  keeping  wolves  off. 


XXVI. 
A  DAY  ON  THE  PKAIKIES ; 

OB,  FIEE  FIGHTING. 

Every  marble  block  hath  in  it, 
Hath  a  perfect  statue  in  it — 
How  to  get  it  out,  the  question. 
Get  it  out,  the  only  question  ; 
Shooting  Cedar  had  his  instincts, 
Had  his  instincts — and  he  used  them, 
Used  them  as  the  stag  his  antlers. 
Though  his  did  but  bud,  the  first  year, 
Grew  each  bud  to  prongs,  the  second  : 
'"^  hat  his  father  got  by  study, 
Got  the  son  by  intuition. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  149 

Westward  went  he  once,  prospecting 
Prairie  lands  to  plant  new  Orchards  : 
What  is  that  on  the  horizon, 
Far  to  west-ward  yet  approaching 
Nearer,  nearer,  and  yet  nearer  ; 
As  an  army  with  its  banners. 
As  the  banners  of  an  army  ? 

Is  it,  that  the  sun,  retiring, 
Went  to  sleep  and  left  his  candle, 
Slept  and  left  his  candle  burning'? 
And  it  caught  the  chamber-curtains. 
Caught  and  set  them  all  a-blazing  ? 
And  are  these  the  fiery  columns, 
Glaring  luridly  at  each  other  ; 
At  each  other  fiercely  glaring, 
As  if  giants,  each,  contending. 
For  the  mastery  contending, 
And  would  each  devour  the  other, 
Only  that  they  are  immortal  ? 

Or  is  it  on  fire,  the  ocean, 
And  it  be  its  waves  he  heareth, 
Fiery  billows  that  he  heareth. 
Breaking  beach-ward,  near  and  nearer  ? 

No — 'tis  not  the  sun  his  candle 
Set  on  fire  his  chamber-curtains ; — 
No — 'tis  not  on  fire,  the  ocean, 
And  its  hot  breath  shore-ward  scorching 


o  > 


150  WA-WA-WANDA. 

But  as  high  as  are  the  heavens, 
And  as  boundless  as  that  ocean, 
Are  the  prairies  all  around  him — 
And  on  fire,  are  all  the  prairies. 
Nearer  coming  and  yet  nearer  ; 
(Hence  our  pleasant  Indian  Summers, 
This  the  first  of  Indian  Summers.) 

Their's  the  lurid  lights  he  seeth, 
Their's  the  raging  that  he  heareth, 
Their's  the  hot  breath  that  he  sniffeth  : 
Shooting  Cedar  may  not  linger, 
Yet  'twere  death  to  fly,  or  tarry. 

Now  his  instincts,  will  they  save  him  ? 
All  unmoved  he  stands  before  it, 
Not  a  muscle  moves,  nor  trembles, 
Sufifers  not  a  joint  to  tremble  ; 
Though  the  crackling  and  the  hissing, 
As  it  were  of  thorns  and  serpents  ; 
As  of  thorns,  it  were,  the  cracking. 
As  of  serpents,  'twere,  the  hissing. 

Now  along  the  ground  it  runneth, 
Now  against  the  heavens  leapeth  ; 
Fly  for  life,  the  prairie  chicken, 
Rush  for  life,  the  frightened  bison. 
Adding  thunder  to  the  thunder, 
To  the  thunder  of  the  roaring 
Of  the  firey  rolling  billows. 


WA- VTA- WAND  A.  151 

Vain  the  flight  of  prairie  chicken, 
Yain  the  stampede  of  the  bison, 
And  the  overtaken  hunter, 
Though  for  dear  life  speeds  his  courser  ; 
Lash  and  spur — what  need  of  either  ? 
There  be  rowels  sharper,  fiercer. 
In  the  forked  tongues,  and  firey. 
Of  the  hissing  hounds  to  heel-ward  : 

Were  there  but  in  front,  a  river — 
Oh,  an  Earldom  for  a  river  I 
And  he  could  but  put  it  'twixt  them, 
'Twixt  him  put  it,  and  the  burning — 
Oh,  an  Earldom  for  a  river  ! 
Haste  thee,  Hunter  I  so  thou  hast  not 
Hereto,  made  thy  peace  with  Heaven  ; 
Rescue — there  be  none  to  rescue — 
Haste  and  make  thy  peace  with  Heaven  I 

There  are  seasons  when  to  mortals 
Ages  seem  to  shrink  to  moments  ; 
Season,  such,  this  to  the  hunter  ; 
Wildly  speeds  its  way,  his  courser  ; 
But  in  vain — for  when  did  ever 
Steed  of  fire  the  lists  once  enter. 
Lightning-shod,  on  prairie  race-course, 
That  it  did  not  win  the  wager, 
Out  run  every  thing  before  it  ? 


152  W  A- W  A- WAND  A. 

As  at  straws  do  catch  the  drowning, 
Fires  his  carbine,  now,  the  Hunter; 
Like  a  signal  gun  to  sea-ward, 
Boometh  it  across  the  prairie  1 
Fired  again — it  was  his  last  one  : 

As  the  goodly  ship,  it  goes  down 
When  its  signals  they  avail  not, 
Signals  of  distress  avail  not ; 
So  one  scream — and  all  was  over 
With  the  Hunter  and  his  courser  ! 

Shooting  Cedar  may  not  linger  : 
Taking  out  his  box  of  tinder,*" 
Sets  on  fire  the  grass  beneath  him ; 
Slowly  first,  and  then  less  slowly. 
In  a  circle  soon  then  widening, 
Clear  it  leaves  the  gi'ound  around  him, 
Black  and  scathed — ^liut  clear  around  him. 

'  Diamond  cut  diamond  I'  said  Shooting  Cedar  ; 
'  Fire  this  day  shall  feed  on  fire  I' 
Eastward  sweeps  the  conflagration  ; 
As  with  tongues  of  flame  up-licking, 
Dry,  or  verdant,  all  before  it ; 
Westward  sweeps  the  fire  he  kindled, 

«  By  kindling  a  fire  in  the  dry  grass  at  one"s  feet,  a  circle  is  soon 
cleared  ;  and  burning  gradually  away  from  him,  it  burns  harmlessly. 
"When  the  tongues  of  the  larger  fire  reach  the  widening  circle, — a  charmed 
circle — they  have  no  more  to  lick  up — and  the  traveler  is  safe. 


WA-WA-WAJa)A.  153 

Meet  they — and  put  out  each  other  ! 
So  the  prairie  of  the  bosom — 
When  the  fuel  is  exhausted, 
Or  it  be  no  longer  piled  on — 
Then  the  fire  of  passion  ceaseth. 
Oh,  the  prairie  of  the  bosom! 
Oh,  the  fire  too  oft  that  scathes  it ! 
And  how  small  the  spark,  sufficeth, 
Serves  to  set  it  all  a-blazing  ! 
Shooting  Cedar — how  he  quenched  it ! 
Only  once,  and  then  not  loudly, 
Called  he  on  his  father's  spirit ; 
Shooting  Cedar  had  his  instincts, 
Had  his  instincts,  and  he  used  them. 


XXYII. 
EEMINISCENCE. 

In  the  days  while  yet  his  father 
And  his  mother  with  hira  lingered — 
One  day  going  through  his  Orchard, 
Singing,  as  the  .trees  he  counted  : 

•'  Bright  the  angels — but  not  when  in, 


15-1  WA-WA-WANUA. 

In  the  dust  their  wings  they  trail  them  ; 
Fair  is  womau's  eye — when  clearly 
Heaven  we  see  reflected  in  it ;" 

As  he  went  on  singing  thus  wise, 
Suddenly  flew  up  an  eagle  ; 
'Round  and  'round,  it  flew  and  fluttered  ; 
Still  gyrating  as  it  went  up, 
Soon  there  fell  some  feathers  from  it, 
One,  with  drops  of  blood  upon  it, 
Last,  and  with  it  the  solution — 
Dropped  a  ferret,  a  gorged  ferret  I 

When  the  eagle  swooped  it  earthward, 
Then  it  was,  the  ferret  caught  it ; 
When  the  noble  bird  ascended. 
Then  appeared  the  creature  clinging. 
Soon  the  eagle's  eye  grew  dizzy, 
And  his  pinions  grew  unsteady  ; 
And  he  fell !  and  as  he  came  down, 
Shooting  Cedar  groaned  in  spirit, 

Saying,  "  In  thee  I  see  my  Country, 
Thou'rt  indeed  my  Country's  symbol, 
In  thy  rising — in  thy  falling  ; 
Born  for  heaven's  pathways  only, 
Yet  with  wing  the  earth  aye  shading — 
0  my  Country  !     0  my  Country  ! 
At  thy  throat  the  ferret  clingeth  : 


WA-WA-WAitDA.  155 

Thou  hast  stooped  I  and  now  thy  greatness 
Is  defiled — defiled  thy  greatness  I 

When  it  went  abroad,  thy  beauty — 
The  renown  of  all  thy  beauty 
Went  abroad  among  the  nations, 
And  they  came  to  do  thee  honor, 
(0,  the  fatal  gift  of  Beauty  !) 
Thou  wast  flattered — and  thou  fellest ! 
Who  shall  mourn  for  thee — my  country  ? 
For  of  all  thy  boasted  lovers, 
Few  remain  to  do  thee  reverence — 
None  remain  I"  and  here  his  big  heart 
Burst  asunder  with  its  great  grief, 
With  its  great  grief,  burst  asunder ! 

And  it  ceased  to  run,  the  cider  ; 
Ban  the  tears — but  not  the  cider, 
Came  the  birds  no  more  to  concert. 
Came  the  beasts  no  more  to  wonder  ; 
And  the  darkness  hid  the  sunshine, 
And  the  music  ceased  its  charming — 
Silence  set  his  seal  upon  it, 
Set  his  great  black  seal  upon  it  I 
And  the  trees  forgot  to  blossom. 
In  the  Spring  forgot  to  blossom, 
Put  it  off  until  the  Autumn  ; 
And  the  Autumn  put  on  mourning. 


156  -       WA-WA-WANDA. 

Put  the  blossoms  off  for  mourning. 

Bat  the  Whip-poor-will  kept  singing, 
Sang  with  an  unusual  sorrow — 
Every  night-fall  you  might  hear  him. 
Listening  to  that  night-bird's  singing, 
At  the  door-sill,  sad  and  lonely, 
Sat  the  father,  Wa-Wa- Wanda, 
Sat  the  mother,  Bunch  of  Blossoms  ; 
In  the  twilight  sat  to  hear  him, 
Hour  when  grief  it  hangs  the  heaviest : 
Old  age  bowed  their  heads  together, 
Age,  their  heads — and  grief,  their  bosoms  ; 
Greater  grief  than  Agamemnon's, 
At  their  heart-strings  each,  was  pulling. 

All  at  once  the  cloud  departed, 
And  the  sunshine  chased  the  shadows. 
Chased  them  down  into  the  valleys ; 
All  at  once  the  Orchards  blossomed, 
Blossomed  twice,  and  took  to  bearing  ; 
And  the  cider  started  running, 
Like  the  brooks  when  Spring  unlocks  them, 
Leaping,  laughing  in  the  spring-time ; 
For,  like   Phoenix  from  his  ashes, 
Shooting  Cedar  from  his  pumace, 
Bose  to  life,  and  set  the  Cider 
Running  out  for  all  the  people. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  157 

'Twas  Lagoochee  that  revived  him, 
For  the  love  he  bore  his  father, 
For  the  love  he  bore  the  people, 
For  the  love  they  bore  Lagoochee." 


Here  again  the  Piper  rested. 
Shook  his  grey  locks,  held  his  breath  in, 
While  a  shade  his  brow  passed  over, 
(So  the  cloud  when  scudding  past  it, 
Casts  its  shadow  on  the  hill-side  ;) 
Drew  a  long  breath,  as  if  suddenly 
In  his  pathway  rose  a  barrier. 
And  there  was  no  way  around  it  ; 
All  the  past,  such  pleasant  sailing, 
All  the  future,  dark  and  dangerous. 

So  the  Sailor, — when  he  makes  them, 
Makes  the  Terra  Del  Fuego^ 
On  whose  bosom — the  Pacific — 
He  had  logged  thus  far,  and  safely. 
If  he  hears  a-head,  the  Breakers — 
Braces  back  his  yards,  and  claws  off, 
Would,  but  may  not,  yield  the  helm. 

Death  is  Death,  what  form  soever, 
Whatsoever  form  He  take  on  ; 
But,  as  King  of  Terrors,  most  so 


158  WA-WA-WANDA. 

When  upon  the  field  ensanguined, 
On  the  foughten  field  we  meet  Him  ; 
Where  'mid  battle's  din,  and  garments 
Rolled  in  blood,  go  down  whole  squadrons, 
Go  down  to  the  cry  of  "  Quarter  !" 

Yet  where  leads  the  Muse,  the  Minstrel, 
Must  he  follow,  though  with  .trembling ; 
And  obedient  to  the  vision. 
And  the  theme  his  soul  enkindling, 
Went  the  Piper  on  as  follows : 


xxviir. 

FALL  OF  SHOOTING  CEDAR. 

"  Set  the  sun,  as  he  afore  time 
In  the  valley  of  Wyoming, 
Set  him — set  as  if  in  trouble  ; 
Yet  no  fears  disturb  the  sleepers. 
In  their  several  hamlets  sleeping  ; 
Sleeps  the  mother,  sleeps  the  infant, 
All  is  dark  and  all  is  silent. 

Hark !  what  is  it  breaks  the  stillness  ? 
'Tis  the  war-whoop  breaks  the  silence  ; 


WA-WA-WANDA.  159 

What  is  that  outshines  the  candle  1 

'Tis  the  light  of  burning  dwellings, 

O'er  their  heads,  their  dwellings  burning. 

Rush  the  strong  men  from  their  door-ways. 

Rush  they  out  into  the  darkness. 

Gone  the  foe,  but  not  unladen. 

Rings  the  war-cry,  sounds  the  bugle. 

And  obedient  to  the  summons, 

March  the  White-Skins  to  the  rescue. 

Like  a  cloud  along  the  river. 
In  a  line  along  the  hill-side. 
Skirted  by  a  wood-land  yonder. 
And  in  single  file  the  Red-Skins — 
See  them  with  their  spoils  retreating ; 
See,  0  sight  to  blind  a  mother  ! 
See  her  infant's  scalp-locks  hanging  ; 
Flaxen  locks  with  long  hairs  hoary, 
At  the  Indians'  sides  hang  gory. 

But  what  debt  of  vengeance,  ever 
Owed  the  Indian,  that  he  paid  not  ? 
And  the  interest — oh  the  interest. 
When  it  comes,  the  day  of  reck'ning ! 

At  the  sight,  they  hold  a  council. 
Counsel  when  they  see  their  war-gear. 
Wisdom  dwells  with  Prudence  :  Meeker  I 
There  be  those  dispraise  thy  prudence. 


160  WA-WA-AVANDA. 

Though  thy  valor,  none  dispraise  it, 
For  thy  death  was  not  iufrlorious. 
When  his  sword  he  flourished,  shouting. 
"  Let  the  brave  men  mount  and  follow, 
And  return  home,  the  faint-hearted  I" 
Then  they  all  the  line  of  march  took. 

But  the  ambush  I     Oh  the  ambush ! 
See  I  the  Chief  of  the  Six-Nations, 
Conestoge,  Brandt  the  crafty, 
Brandt  the  wily,  the  strategic, 
In  array  has  set  the  battle  ; 
Hangs  cloud-like,  upon  our  rear-ward, 
In  array  has  set  the  battle. 

As  his  sense  of  wrong,  his  weapon, — 
Sharp  his  scalp-knife,  sure  his  arrow, 
At  his  back  his  bow  and  quiver. 
On  his  face  and  hands,  the  war-paint. 
Wrongs  of  years  compressed  to  moments, 
In  a  moment  balanced,  cancelled  ; 
See  it  in  his  eye  of  lightning, 
Hear  it  in  his  voice  of  thunder  I 

Quail  a  moment,  and  then  rally, 
Quail  and  rally,  the  Pale-Faces, 
Saying,  "  He  has  come — the  Monster, 
Brandt  the  Monster  is  upon  us  I" 
Hark !  it  is  his  war-whoop  soundeth. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  161 

And  the  storm  in  all  its  fury, 
Bursts  the  storm  in  force  and  fury. 
First  an  arrow,  then  another, 
Then  another,  and  another, 
Till  the  air  is  dark  with  arrows* 
Then  the  sharp  crack  of  the  rifle, 
Volley  answers  back  to  volley, 
And  the  soldiers'  jackets  redden 
At  the  touch  of — of  the  leaden. 
But  their  aim  is  true  and  steady. 
And  a  score  of  bows  drop  empty. 
For  the  want  of  hands  to  bend  them. 
For  the  hands  are  stiff  that  bent  them. 
Hides  behind  each  tree  a  foeman, 
Wild  eyes  glare  from  out  the  bushes. 

Wavers  now,  the  savage  phalanx, 
But  above  the  din  and  shouting, 
'Bove  the  shouting  of  the  captains. 
And  the  neighing  and  the  prancing 
Of  the  chargers  in  the  conflict, — 
Rings  the  voice  of  Conestoge, 
And  he  turns  the  tide  of  battle  ; 
He  who  came  from  Mamakating 
As  the  avalanche  from  the  mountain 
As  the  thunder-bolt  descending  ; 
All  the  fierceness  of  the  tiger, 
All  the  fox's  craft  and  cunning — 


162  WA-WA-WANDA. 

And  he  turns  the  tide  of  battle. 

He  advancing  holds  before  him, 
Holds  a  captive  child  before  him. 
"Fire  I"  he  cries  ;  "  Oh,  father  save  me, 
Save  me,  fatRer  I"  cries  the  captive. 
Stayed  at  once  an  hundred  bullets 
Else  had  told  their  fatal  errand ! 
"  Father,  save  me  I"  sight,  oh  maddening  ! 
But  that  father's  ear  is  heavy, 
Cold  in  death,  that  father  lieth  ! 
Spared  the  father,  sight  so  maddening, 
Mete  the  fates  that  mercy  to  him. 
But  the  mother,  wild  and  frantic. 
Mourns  her  lost  child,  dreams  of  pine-knots, 
Dreams  of  helplessness  and  torture. 
As  they  bear  him  to  the  bushes 
'Midst  his  struggling,  and  the  stretching 
Out  of  arms  for  aid  that  comes  not. 

'Twixt  two  rocks  collect  the  wounded  ; 
Whose  that  form  low  bending  o'er  them  ? 
Tusten's — the  beloved  Physician  ! 
His  the  feet  that  from  yon  fountain 
Water  brings  to  bathe  their  temples, 
Bathe  their  feverish  lips  and  temples  ; 
His  the  hand  that  binds  their  wounds  up, 
For  the  dying  smoothes  the  pillow, 
Smoothes  the  pillow  for  the  dying. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  163 

"  Tusten,  fly  !  for  safety  fly  thee! 
"Wet  once  more  our  lips  — then  fly  thee  ; 
We  must  perish — thou  mayest  save  thee  ; 
While  thou  mayest — fly  and  save  thee  I" 
But  he  answered,  he  the  Hero, 
"  God  do  so  to  me,  and  more  so, 
If  ought  else  than  death  divide  us  I" 
Actions  of  the  just  smell  sweetly, 
When  in  dust  of  death  the}^  blossom. 

Sounds  the  charge  !  and  on  the  column 
Dashes  as  the  wild  tornado  ; 
But  a  wilder  sweeps  to  meet  it : 
Tusten  bites  the  dust — and  Wisner  ; 
And  like  them,  transfixed  with  arrows, 
Falls  to  rise  not — Shooting  Cedar  ! 
But  not  till  there  lie  around  him, 
Lie  in  heaps  his  foes  around  him. 

Minisink  I  thy  ground  is  holy  ! 
Pilgrims  to  thy  shrine  approaching. 
From  their  feet  shall  take  their  shoes  off. 

Lackawack  I  in  song  as  story. 
Hence,  as  points  the  star  to  glory, 
On  the  patriot's  path  to  glory — 
Thou  shall  live  when  kingdoms  crumble. 

Warwick  I  who  shall  mourn  thy  fallen  ? 
In  the  same  day  made  to  know  both 
Widow-hood  and  loss  of  children  I 


164  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Tusten  !  flower  of  Gosben  chivalry  ; 
'Round  thine  urn  the  good  shall  gather, 
Shall  the  good  of  ages  gather, 
Not  at  night  and  morning  only  : 
Rapt,  and  kneeling  there  beside  it. 
And  with  dewy  eye.  Sweet  Pity 
Gazes  silent  up  the  heavens  I 
Mourn  the  Graces — mourn  the  Virtues, 
Weep  the  Virtues — weep  the  Graces. 
Thus  much  bids  the  Muse  embalm  thee, 
Tardily  though  comes  her  bidding. 

Dartmouth  I  where  thy  boasted  learning  ? 
But  what  art  may  tame  the  tiger, 
Or  unteach  the  fox  his  cunning  ? 
Harbored'st  whom,  thine  Alma  Mater? 
Not  a  lamb,  but  wolf,  her  bosom  ! 
Labored'st — and  brought'st  forth  a  Monster, 
He  who  on  the  fold  at  midnight. 
Broke  in  on  the  fold  at  sleep-hour  ; 
His  the  torch,  Wyoming  lighted, 
His  the  scalp-knife,  keen  and  cruel. 

And  the  name  of  Shooting  Cedar 
Passed  into  his  country's  legends. 
As  his  parents'  had  before  it ; 
Theirs  in  Peace  passed,  his  in  War  went, 
Midst  the  noise  and  smoke  of  battle. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  165 

'Round  it,  pleasant  memories  clustered 
As  the  ivy  'round  old  columns  ; 
All  that's  manly,  all  that's  lovely, 
Truth  in  man,  or  love  in  woman. 

Birds  of  passage  bore  it  with  them  , 
In  the  Great  Bear's  ear  they  sung  it. 
On  the  Southern  Cross  they  huug  it ; 
Grinned  the  Northern  Bear,  to  hear  it, 
Smiled  the  Southern  Cross  responsive  ; 
Mothers  to  their  children  taught  it, 
Children  in  their  gardens  sowed  it, 
And  the  stars  looked  down  and  read  it ; 

Traced  it  on  the  beach  the  sailor, 
Bade  the  billows  break  not  o'er  it ; 
And  the  billows  they  obeyed  him — 
Curbed  his  mane,  the  Seventh  Billow  ;* 

*  In  the  battle  between  Terra  and  Aqua,  the  latter,  after  six  repulses 
rested,  and  then  rallying  all  her  strength  for  one  grand  assault,  threw  her- 
self upon  the  former's  front  with  great  fury.  Even  since  has  she  been  vain- 
ly endeavoring  to  wash  out  on  the  beach,  the  record  of  liis  success  and  her 
defeat,  overleaping  the  constantly  shifting  boundary  line  every  seventh 
turn,  but  losing  ground  at  each.  The  encroachments  of  the  land  upon 
the  sea,  may  be  noticed  in  more  places  than  on  the  Syrian  coa.*t,  where  a 
wide  space  now  appears  between  Beirut  and  the  sea,  where  former- 
ly there  was  none,  and  the  Delta  below  New  Orleans. 

The  seventh  wave,  so  much  larger  than  the  rest,  might  be  taken  to 
represent  the  undying,  unyielding,  ever  restle.'W  nature  of  the  water- 
spirit,  that  would  .still  do  battle  as  long  as  any  part  of  its  watery  realm 
reinaiueth  ;  like  the  prisoner  lurching  against  tin?  sides  of  his  prison 
house,  while  every  eflbrc  to  be^t  down  its  walls,  only  walls  him  in  all 


1C6  WA-WA- WANDA. 

Anr'  tliat  it  remain  immortal, 
Into  loimortality  anchor, — 
Neptune  moored  a  sand-bar  near  it ; 
Arched  its  neck,  the  great  Big  Billow  ! 

And  the  Wall-Kill,  as  it  rushed  on, 
Paused  to  murmur  "  Wa-Wa-Wanda," 
Sweetly  whispered  "  Bunch  of  Blossoms,* 
And  as  proudly — "  Shooting  Cedar." 


EPILOGUE. 

Ye  who  look  upon  this  picture, 
First  on  this  side,  then  on  that  side  ; 
And  who  think  ye,  in  these  symbols, 
See  the  curse,  and  see  the  blessing — 
Blessing  of  a  life  of  Virtue, 
And  the  curse  on  Vice  that  waiteth — 
Ponder  on  this  sorig  of  Orchards. 

Ye  who  crossing  life's  Sahara, 
Felt  the  Simoon  hand  you  over 
To  the  fever,  thirst  and  fever  ; 

the  higher  ;  every  essay  to  unloose  hLs  chains,  only  riveting  them  the 
tighter.  This  phenomenon  of  the  seventh  wave  is  best  seen  beyond 
the  tropic  of  Capricorn.  There,  the  Albatross  (of  the  family  Laridce) 
treads  the  water,  and  as  the  seventh  vrave  comes  rolling  in,  mounts  ite 
crest,  the  better  to  descend  upon  the  flying-fish  on  which  it  feeds. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  167 

And  as  life  was  in  departing, 

Right  before  you  (as  to  Hagar 

When  midst  Edom's  sands  she  fainted) 

Gushed  there  up — till  then  despaired  of, 

And  unseen,  but  for  the  angel 

That  unsealed  it — some  cool  fountain  ; 

And  ye  drank  the  sparkling  waters, 

Drank,  and  drove  away  the  fever — 

Ponder  on  this  Song  of  Orchards. 

Ye  who,  looking  down  Time's  vista, 
May  have  traced  two  lines  diverging 
From  a  point,  until  they  widened 
Far  apart  as  Hell  from  Heaven  ; 
Ye  who  walked  with  Wa-Wa-Wanda 
On  his  rounds  among  his  people. 
Saw  how  beauteous  on  the  hill-tops, 
Were  the  feet  of  Bunch  of  Blossoms  ; 
He,  an  Evergreen  on  the  war-path. 
She,  a  rising  Star  of  Beauty  ; 
Saw  how  Bunch  of  Blossoms'  counsels 
Shaped  the  life  of  Shooting  Cedar, 
Made  him  tall  of  mind  as  stature, 
Shod  his  feet  with  skins  of  badger, 
Helmeted  his  head  in  battle, 
And  his  loins  begirt  about  him — 
Gold  the  clasp,  whate'er  the  girdle — 
Ponder  on  this  song  of  Orchards, 


168  WA-WA-M^ANDA. 

On  this  song  of  Orchards  ponder. 

Ye  who  watched  as  well,  the  inglorious 
End  of  such  as  with  Fire-Water, 
At  the  wine-cup  loved  to  tarry, 
Loved  to  tarry  at  the  wine-cup, 
Though  each  draught  but  fed  the  fever  ; 
With  the  eagle  loved  to  swoop  it, 
Though  the  ferret  drank  the  life's-blood, 
With  caresses  plied  the  adder, 
Though  it  was  to  perish  by  it ; 
Ye  who  look  upon  this  picture 
From  the  wall  of  memory  hanging, 
From  the  wainscot  looking  at  you, 
Ponder  on  the  song  we  sang  you. 
On  the  moral  it  containeth. 

Note.— Joseph  Brandt,  a  Half-Breed,  and  relative  of  Sir  William 
Johnson,  was  early  placed  in  Dartmouth  College,  where  j  receiving  many 
kind  attentions  and  possessing  great  powers,  he  gained  a  good  education. 
But  he  went  wild  again.  Thus  was  he  dandled  on  the  knees  and  sucked 
the  breasts  of  that  Mother  whose  sons  and  daughters  British  cruelty  com- 
missioned him  to  massacre.  The  ferocity  of  his  savage  nature  was  not 
tamed  by  education.  In  him,  the  blood  of  the  barbarian  quenched  every 
spark  of  civilization  that  might  have  been  kindled.  He  was  more  cun- 
ning than  the  fox,  and  fiercer  than  the  tiger.  With  300  of  his  painted 
warriors  and  200  Tories,  he  set  out  from  Niagara,  June,  1779,  to  fall  upon 
our  frontiers.  In  July  they  appeared  like  a  dark  cloud  on  the  mountain 
tops  of  Minisink,ready  to  burst  into  the  valley  in  thunder  and  lightning, 
tempest  and  hail.  It  is  he  whom  Campbell,  in  his  "  Gertrude  of  Wyo- 
ming," styles  "  the  Monster  Brandt" — the  leader  in  that  dreadful  massa- 
cre which  desolated  the  fair  Valley  of  Wyoming  in  the  Autumn  of  177S. 
The  Battle  of  Minisink,  fought  July  22d,  1779.— ,See  Dr.  Wilson's  Address. 


XXIX. 
FADING  OF  BOUGH  OF  BEAUTY. 

"Why  was  mine  tte  Piper's  portion, 
Wliy  was  mine  the  Minstrel's  mission, 
At  the  Muse's  beck  to  follow. 
It  may  be  to  close  in  sadness 
Suddenly,  strains  begun  in  gladness  ? 
Bough  of  Beauty — such  no  longer — 
Who  shall  sing  the  death  thou  diedst  ? 
Sing  thy  fading,  sing  thy  fainting, 
Sing  the  double  death  thou  diedst  ? 

If  an  archer  shoot  an  arrow 
At  a  vulture's  nest,  and  woundeth, 
It  may  be  a  dove  within  it. 
And  a  tear  bespeak  his  sorrow  ; 
If  to  see  his  seedling  perish. 
Wring  the  gardener's  heart  with  anguish; 
If  a  sigh  escape  the  ploughman, 
Turning  but  a  daisy  under — 
How  shall  bard  without  emotion, 
Sing  the  death  of  Bough  of  Beauty  ? 

Bough  of  Beauty — such  no  longer — 
Time  hath  wrought  so  hardly  with  her, 


170  WA-WA-WAJTOA. 

Yet  not  on  her  heart  wrought  hardly  ; 
That,  no  change  could  know,  nor  wrinkle, 
Age  but  swelled  its  store  of  juices, 
In  life's  winter  greenest  growing  : 

So  the  tree  when  Winter  seres  it, 
Seres  its  leaflets,  seres  its  branches — 
Eoot-ward  gathers  back  its  juices, 
Back  its  juices  gathers  root-ward  ; 
Less  it  boasts  of  outward  flourish. 
Greener  at  its  heart  it  groweth  ; 
Till  some  vernal  morn  renew  it, 
And  it  dons  its  robe  of  beauty 
Wears  again  its  robe  of  beauty  : 

Down  the  Otterkill  descending, 
Down  to  where  its  widening  waters, 
Disembogueing,  take  a  new  name — 
Thither  leads  the  Muse  historic. 
Tells  the  story  of  the  slaughter, 
Since  which,  yearly  runs  the  current, 
Runs  in  crimson  to  the  river. 
Crimson  all  the  time  of  harvest. 

On  its  banks  lived  Bough  of  Beauty, 
Bough  of  Beauty  and  Naoman, 
He,  Naoman,  friend  of  white  men  ; 
Bough  of  Beauty  with  her  husband. 
Old  Naoman,  childless,  wifeless  ; 
On  its  southern  bank,  her  cabin, 


■WA-"WA-WANDA.  171 

On  its  northern  bank,  Naoman's. 
In  the  pleasant  Autumn  season, 
When  their  cabin  fires  they  kindled, 
Oft  their  chimneys'  smoke,  ascending. 
Would  they  join  and  rise  together  : 
As  that  smoke,  their  prayers  ascended — 
Incense  to  the  same  Great  Spirit. 

Often  in  the  Summer  twilight, 
Would  the  Indian,  Old  Naoman, 
Come  to  learn  of  Bough  of  Beauty 
Learn  of  her  and  of  her  husband. 
Of  the  Good  and  Gracious  Spirit. 
And  she  told  him  of  the  Prophets, 
And  the  promise  (peace  and  pardon) 
Peace  the  fruit  of  tree  of  pardon  ; 
Of  the  Altar,  Priest  and  Victim  ; 
Told  him  of  the  Son  of  Mary, 
Him  the  Altar,  Priest  and  Victim. 

What  has  stirred  the  hive,  that  vengeful 
Thus  the  swarm  abroad  comes  flying  ? 
All  the  warriors  meet  in  Council, 
Leave  off  trapping  of  the  otter. 
Seek  in  haste  their  seats  in  Council. 
There  the  hatchet  they  unbury. 
Brief  their  words, — as  briefly  spoken  : 
"  White  man  has  of  lafe,  two  faces. 
White  man's  heart  i,'*  black  within  him. 


172  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Though  the  sun  rise,  not  a  Pale  Face 
Shall  remain  alive  to  see  it !" 

When  the  lightning  blasts  the  big  oak, 
Spares  it  not  the  youthful  sapling  1 
But  when  fellers  come  against  it, 
With  their  axes  hew  the  forest. 
Cleave  the  forest  with  their  axes — 
Many  a  goodly  bough,  and  sapling. 
Falls  before  them,  cleft  remorseless ; 
Falls  the  old  trunk,  leafless,  limbless, 
Falls  the  young  tree,  green  and  tender : 

So  when  Indian  takes  the  war-path, 
Woe  alike  to  young  and  aged  I 
Bough  of  Beauty — what  shall  save  her  ? 
Must  she  perish  in  the  conflict  ? 
Bough  of  Beauty — who  shall  save  her  1 
Said  Naoman,  "  I  will  save  her." 
(Softly  to  himself  he  said  it) 
"  Salt  with  him  I  oft  have  eaten. 
By  his  fire,  when  cold,  have  warmed  me, 
And  her  kindness — I  have  shared  it — 
I  will  warn  her — I  will  save  her." 

Comes  Naoman  to  her  cabin, 
But  not  as  aforetime,  comes  he  ; 
And  her  children  join  in  welcome, 
Welcome  warm  to  Old  Naoman. 
But  he  talks  not  of  the  Peace-pipe, 


WA-WA-WANDA.  173 

Nor  of  otter,  or  of  beaver ; 

Neither  of  tte  prairie  riddle, 

Of  the  seeds  wliich  Shooting  Cedar, 

In  his  day  he  buried  in  them, 

That  in  after  times,  men  turning 

Up  the  sod,  should  set  them  growing — 

Cotton-wood  trees  on  all  the  prairies,* 

And  should  ask,  "  These  seeds,  who  sowed  them? 

Whence  the  pine  tree  for  the  oak  tree  1 

Whence  the  oak  tree  for  the  pine  tree  ?" 

They  should  answer — "  Shooting  Cedar." 

Sits  Naoman,  sad  and  silent. 
In  a  corner,  sad  and  silent ; 
On  his  brow  a  shade  has  settled, 
Heeds  he  not  the  child's  caresses, 
Climbing,  as  his  wont  was,  round  him  ; 
In  the  corner,  sits  the  old  man, 
Sits  and  smokes,  and  sighs  alternate. 

*  No  solution  has  been  attempted  of  the  phenomenal  up-springing  of 
pines  wherever  the  oaks  have  been  cut  off,  and  rice  versa ;  but  there  have, 
respecting  the  cotton  wood  seeds  in  the  prairie  soil,  and  among  them, 
this — that  the  prairies  were  once  overgrown  with  that  tree,  at  which 
time,  as  does  the  oakitsacom,  they  dropped  their  seeds,  and  that  plough- 
ing facilitates  their  springing  up. 

The  fact  that  the  eastern  banks  of  the  streams  are  timbered,  while  the 
western  (more  exposed  to  the  prairie  fires)  are  not,  favors  it.  But  again, 
tiie  fact  that  the  timber  on  the  cast  sides  protected  by  the  water,  is  not 
of  cotton  wood  growth,  militates  against  it.  The  Mosaic  account  of  the 
earth  is — "  whose  seed  is  in  itself" 


174:  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Then  she  questions — and  he  answers  : 
"  I'm  a  Red  Man.    And  the  white  squaws 
Are  not  good  at  keei^iug  secrets — 
Fly  and  bring  thy  husband  hither." 
He  was  absent — and  she  pressed  him  : 
"  Will  you  swear  by  your  Great  Spirit, 
Never  to  betray  the  secret, 
Not,  to  save  your  life,  betray  it  ?" 

Then  she  sware  to  keep  the  secret, 
To  the  Spirit  sware  to  keep  it , 
She  would  not  betray  who  told  her. 
Of  her  danger  then  he  warned  her, 
Warned — and  straightway  left  the  cabin  ^ 
In  the  night  time  came  he  softly, 
In  the  darkness  left  as  softly, 
Saying  to  himself,   "  None  saw  me." 

And  was  there  no  eye  that  saw  him, 
From  behind  the  alders  watching  ? 
Watching  from  behind  the  alders  ? — 
Watched  an  eye  that  knew  no  pity, 
Knew  to  watch,  but  not  to  pity. 
But  what  dove  flies  not  the  bosom 
When  Fire-Water's  baleful  billows, 
Break  his  billows  in  upon  it  ! 
This,  their  ally  'tis,  has  roused  them. 
Turned  their  bread-root  tree  to  wormwood, 
Turned  their  bosoms  all  to  prairies, 


VA-WA-WANDA.  175 

Set  those  prairies  all  a-blazing  ; 
For  Fire-Water  as  a  torch  is, 
As  a  sheaf  the  Indian's  heart  is  ; 
And  as  prairie  grass  the  white  men, 
Dry,  and  fit  but  for  the  burning ! 

Short  the  time — and  Bough  of  Beauty, 
With  her  husband  and  the  children, 
For  the  river  make — and  make  it. 
On  their  trail,  like  hounds  on  hind's  track, 
Rush  vindictive — rush  the  Red  Skins. 

Fast  he  plies  the  oar — they  near  him  ! 
Fast  the  big  drops  fall,  and  faster  ; 
And,  the  Fates  not  inauspicious. 
With  but  ninety  yards  remaining, 
Soon  the  shore  were  reached — and  refuge. 
At  each  stroke  his  oar  he  feathers, 
But,  alas  !  the  Fates  decreeing 
Breaks  his  oar — and  all  is  over  ! 
With  it  breaks  all  hope  of  safety — 
Their  pursuers  are  upon  them ! 

Bough  of  Beauty  I  where  thy  father  ? 
Where  thy  father,  Wa-Wa-Wanda  ? 
Where  thy  brother.  Shooting  Cedar  ? 
Where  thine  Angel,  that  thay  leave  thee, 
Leave  thee  in  thine  hour  of  peril  ? 
One  blast  of  their  bugle  sounded, 
But  one  blow  of  arm  so  stalwart, 


176  WA-WA-WANDA. 

Were  to  thee  now  worth  a  legion, 
Worth  a  legion  armed  and  painted  ! 
Could  thy  voice  but  reach,  awake  them, 
Could  thy  lute-like  voice  but  wake  them, 
(Late  so  lute-like — now  so  husky) 
They  would  fly  on  wing  of  lightning, 
On  the  lightning's  wing  to  aid  thee, 
They  would  rally  to  the  rescue. 

Vain  :  nor  aught  but  angel  trumpet, 
May  the  dull  cold  ear  of  death  reach ; 
Yet  to  thee  it  is  appointed, 
Ere  the  morrow's  sun  to  see  them  : 
Lighted  even  now  the  fagot ; 
Or  if  that  be  all  too  tardy — 
Ready  whetted  is  the  death  axe — • 
Short  thy  shrift — and  sure  thy  passport ! 

Strong  the  love  of  life — but  stronger 
Is  the  Red  Man's  love  of  vengeanc-e  : 
As  an  arrow  from  the  bow  shot. 
As  an  arrow  tipped  and  feathered, 
When  the  bow  is  strong,  and  stronger 
Is  the  arm  that  bears,  that  bends  it ; 
So  across  the  narrowing  distance, 
At  each  stroke  an  oar's  length  narrower, 
Shoots  the  boat  of  the  pursuers  ; 
And  they  take  them  captive — bind  them. 
And  the  back  track  take  in  silence. 


WA-WA-WANDA.  177 

See — the  Council  fire  is  lighted, 
'Round  it  sit  the  Chiefs  in  circle  ; 
With  them,  smoking,  sits  Naoman, 
Sits  Naoman,  silent,  smoking. 
Bound  before  them,  Bough  of  Beauty, 
And  her  husband  and  their  children. 
And  they  ask  him,  "  Who  is  guilty  ?" 
But  the  husband  makes  no  answer. 
Martclair  ask,  "  Who  is  guilty  ?  " 
Martelair  returns  no  answer, 
He  will  not  betray  Naoman. 

"  Woman,  speak!"  But  Bough  of  Beauty 
Only  looks  at  old  Naoman, 
Trembling,  shuddering,  looks  toward  him. 
"  Woman,  speak  !  three  times  we  ask  thee. 
Once — who  told  thee  1  twice — who  told  thee  ? 
She  was  silent,  she  was  speechless. 

Oh,  'tis  not  the  oak,  but  willow, 
Best  resists,  survives  the  tempest ! 
Woman,  whom  a  leaf  may  startle. 
Firmest  stands  midst  danger  direst, 
Grows  her  strength  as  grows  that  danger  ; 
Bough  of  Beauty  stood  the  tempest. 

Then  they  o'er  her  children's  heads  each, 
Raise  the  tomahawk,  repeating, 
"  Woman,  answer — 'tis  the  last  time  !" 
And  the  children,  trembling,  clinging, 


178  WA-WA--WANDA. 

Cry  out,  "  Do  not  let  them  kill  vis  !" 
Enters  deep  her  heart,  the  iron, 
But  from  out  her  lips  no  answer ; 
But  ere  snap  the  strings  of  nature, 
Turns  her  eye  again  instinctive, 
Turns  it  upon  Old  Naoman. 
But  his  meets  hers,  cold  and  soulless  ; 
Not  a  word  she  answers, — only 
Wrings  her  hands,  and  fainting,  totters 
As  the  tomahawk  descending — 

"  Hold  !"  Naoman  cries  out — "  "Woman, 
Thou  hast  kept  thy  word.     Naoman, 
He  it  was,  to  save  them,  told  them. 
I  a  branchless  trunk,  and  withered, 
Cut  me  down — for  I  am  ready. 
I  her  salt  in  peace  have  eaten. 
Warmed  me  by  her  fire  when  frosted, 
Shared  her  kindness — strike  !  I'm  ready  I" 

From  a  little  knoll  descending, 
Forward  comes  he,  and  his  mantle, 
Hides  his  face  within  hie  mantle  ; 
And  amid  their  yells  of  fury, 
Falls  the  blow  on  old  Naoman  ! 

As  the  tiger,  once  blood-baited, 
As  the  tiger  in  the  tiger, 
Knows  no  bounds — the  Indians,  tasting 
Of  the  blood  of  old  Naoman, 


WA-WA-WAJSTDA.  179 

On  the  altar  of  their  hatred 
Slew  the  father,  slew  the  children, 
Slew  the  mother  in  tlie  children  ! 

"With  their  blood,  the  waters  reddened, 
And  the  waters,  shocked,  indignant, 
Told  the  river ;  and  the  river 
In  its  turn,  it  told  the  ocean  ; 
And  the  ocean,  pale  with  anger, 
Up  the  river  sent  its  current, 
Up  the  creek,  its  tidal  current  ; 
Sent  it  daily,  twice  a  day  sent. 
So  it  might  but  wash  the  stains  out. 

And  the  point  of  intersection — 
Clear  above  it  flowed  the  waters, 
Flowed  the  waters  clear  as  crystal ; 
Dark  below  it  ran  the  current, 
Kan  the  current,  dyed  to  purple. 
Creek  of  Martelair,  the  old  folks, 
Murderers'  Creek,  the  young  folks  call  it.* 

•  This  tragedy  was  enacted  in  the  sixteenth  century,  half  a  mile  above 
the  mouth  of  the  creek,  which  here  changes  its  name  in  commemoration. 
One  mile  above,  is  a  snuff-mill ;  but  the  main  features  of  the  scene  remain 
unaltered — by  common  consent,  remain  unaltered.  Besides  a  sacred- 
ness  about  the  spot,  there  is  a  wildncss  :  the  red-winged  blackbird  and 
water-fowl,  ignorant  of  its  baptism  of  blood,  there  hold  uninterrupted 
sway,  and  sing  and  feed  at  will.  Trees  that  for  ages  have  hung  their  in- 
cumbent foliage  in  primeval  grandeur,  and  with  the  evening  sun,  or 
mom's  alternate,  thrown  their  continiious  shade  over  half  its  watery 
realm— these  cast  their  shadows  still.  Still  the  morning  silvers  its  waves  • 
with  the  setting  sun,  they  still  glow  with  crimson. — Patdding'stradUiom. 


180  WA-WA-WAJSTDA. 

Children  after  dark,  on  errands, 
Go  not  near  the  spot,  but  'round  it ; 
Often  as  men  bridge  it  over, 
Swells  the  stream  and  throws  the  bridge  off; 
Listening  when  the  tempest  rages, 
Ke-enacts  the  scene,  the  struggle. 
Screams  for  help,  and  sounds  of  gurgling  ; 
Sounds  at  intervals  of  wailing, 
As  'twere  some  departing  spirit, 
As  it  were  an  infant  wailing. 
Loud  at  times,  then  faint  and  fainter  : 
Still,  though  calm  the  day  or  stormy, 
Blood  cries  from  the  ground  to  heaven  ! 

Thus  evanished  Bough  of  Beauty, 
Thus-wise  Bough  of  Beauty  faded  ; 
Not  as  fades  the  bow  that  spans  it — 
Fades  the  rainbow  in  the  heavens, 
Harbinger  of  hope — and  promise 
Of  a  brighter  day  to-morrow  ; 
But  as  sets  the  Star  of  Evening, 
When  the  heavens  gather  blackness. 
And  the  lightning,  forked  and  flashing. 
And  the  thunder,  the  hoarse  thunder. 
Lead  the  war  on,  elemental — 
Thus  the  Star  of  Bough  of  Beauty 
Down  life's  western  sky  descended. 
Set  in  darkness,  set  in  anguish  !" 


^ 


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THE  GREAT  TRIBULATION; 

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THE  GREAT  TRIBULATION. 

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BEATRIGE  GENGI. 

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ISABELLA  ORSINI. 
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WOMAN  S  THOUGHTS  ABOUT  WOMEN. 

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AFTERNOON  OF  UNMARRIED  LIFE. 

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LECTURES  OF  LOLA  MONTEZ. 

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VERNON  GROVE; 

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ROMANCE  OF  A  POOR  YOUNG  MAN. 

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DOESTICKS'  LETTERS. 

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PLU-RI-BUS-TAH. 

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THE  WITCHES  OF  NEW  YORK. 

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A  BACHELOR'S  STORY. 

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EMELINE  SHERMAN   SMITH. 

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K.  N.  PEPPER  PAPERS. 

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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


Form  I.-9 
2im -2,  ■43(3203) 


PS  l^^ewman  - 

2459         Wa  -v/a  -vranda . 
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DEMCO  list: 


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2459 

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